Sirius Trouble
by Fleur and Bethany
Summary: *Update 6/01!* Harry's annual summer of misery is in full swing... until he's kidnapped by a convicted murderer (albeit, quite happily.) Not even back at Hogwarts, however, Harry's forced to begin a quest to save Sirius while facing evil at every turn.
1. The Begining and the End

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Sirius Trouble  
By: Bethany and Fleur  
Rated: PG  
Chapter 1 - The begining and the end  
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    The summer had gone from what Harry expected to far worse-and in
    an amazingly short amount of time. He sat now, not thinking of the
    recently revived Dark Lord, but of how he could contact his Godfather,
    Sirius Black.
    At the end of the last term, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of
    Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore, had instructed Harry to
    return to Privet Drive to stay with his aunt and uncle. Disappointed
    that he couldn't go straight to his best friend Ron's house, Harry had
    reluctantly done as he was told. But compared to how the Dursleys
    treated him now, even his life before looked rose filled and joyful.
    Last summer the Weasleys had picked Harry up for the Quidditch
    World Cup. Fred and George, Ron's older twin brothers, had brought some
    joke candy with them. Dudley, of course, found a piece of it and
    stuffed it into his mouth. To the Dursley's complete and utter horror
    (and Harry's amusement), his tongue began growing at an alarming rate.
    Harry had found out when he returned that the Dursleys were still sore
    over the matter.
    It seemed, for a while at least, that the threat of Harry
    contacting Sirius was enough to keep his uncle at bay. That is, until
    about a two weeks ago.
    Harry had been outside on the front porch when Dudley had come
    out. It was obvious he was mad at the lunch -or lack there of- Aunt
    Petunia had given him and was desperate to take it out on someone. That
    someone just happened to end up being Harry. The argument that Harry
    was trying to avoid was as inevitable as the sun rising and setting.
    Thus Aunt Petunia came rushing out of the house to protect her "Duddy"
    and Harry was instantly sent to his room. Harry couldn't say that he
    was surprised; this type of situation seemed to be the only type he
    could share with his cousin.
    He didn't mind, however. His room, small as it was, was full of
    his Hogwarts books, robes, wand and Firebolt. An exceptional
    accomplishment, as the Dursleys were more likely to burn these
    treasures than let Harry put them on display. It just so happened to be
    Harry's misfortune that not only did he live with Muggles (non-magic
    folk) but the worse kind; the kind that hated magic in any form. Which
    made Harry about as wanted in the Dursley's house as a bug in Aunt
    Petunia's spotless kitchen.
    Sighing, Harry closed the door and flopped down on the bed.
    Hedwig looked up at him, startled by his abrupt entrance, before
    ducking her head back under her wing.
    Unfortunately, things would only get worse from there on out. At
    five o'clock Uncle Vernon came home, and after hearing Dudley's rather
    tall tale of what happened (Harry thought he heard the word elephant
    drift up the stairs,) came up to Harry's room, his face red from rage
    and sweat dripping from his forehead. "So boy," he spat, accidentally
    bumping into Harry's trunk and jumping back like it had bit him. "Been
    threatening Dudley again? Telling him you'd use... use your..." He
    searched for the word while Harry wondered what part of 'Go away!'
    Dudley had confused for magic. "Disorder!" Uncle Vernon finally
    screamed.
    "No," Harry responded evenly.
    Uncle Vernon blanched, almost as if he had expected Harry to come
    out and admit it. "You!" he yelled, his large face swelling up even
    more, as it turned nearly purple. "No food for a week!"
    Harry hadn't heard a threat from Uncle Vernon in so long he had
    to take a minute to realize what was said. The idea was idiotic! Slowly
    Harry stood up, his fist clinched at his side. "Go ahead," he said.
    "And when I write Sirius and tell him, you'll think what happened to
    Dudley last summer was nothing!" Of course, Harry was bluffing to a
    point, he knew. The last time he had heard from Sirius, his Godfather
    was still helping Dumbledore round up witches and wizards to fight
    against the Dark Lord.
    Harry could see Uncle Vernon reconsidering the punishment. But
    what was said next completely took Harry by surprise. "No, no you
    won't," he repeated, convincing himself of something. It seemed the
    silence would never end as Uncle Vernon continued to nod to himself. He
    shook his finger, glancing nervously out the window. "You know, I don't
    believe you even have a Godfather. Yes," he mumbled, liking this idea
    very much. "Just something you made up."
    "You've gone mad!" Harry accused, but his uncle either didn't
    hear him or didn't care. Either way, this definitely was not good.
    Before Harry knew what was happening, Uncle Vernon grabbed his
    shoulders and dragged him downstairs, where he was promptly locked in
    the cupboard under the stairs.
    Through the rest of the night Harry heard Uncle Vernon up in his
    bedroom, hammering and throwing things. Only when he heard Hedwig
    screech did he begin banging on the door, demanding that he be let out.
    "If you hurt one feather on her, I'll curse this house!" he screamed.
    He knew he wouldn't, under age wizards weren't allowed to do magic away
    from Hogwarts, but it sounded good all the same.
    His words had no effect, though. For two days later he was still
    locked in the cupboard. Aunt Petunia had only let him out to go to the
    bathroom, Uncle Vernon standing guard to be sure he didn't try
    anything. It wasn't until the third day was he escorted out of the
    cupboard and back to his room. The first thing Harry noticed was that
    the window had been sealed with concrete; the second was that all of
    his Hogwarts possessions were gone, except Hedwig, who was locked in
    her cage. It seemed that while Uncle Vernon was able to handle contact
    with Harry's inanimate objects, an actual wizard's pet was another
    story completely.
    Uncle Vernon stood in the doorway now, looking quite satisfied at
    his work. "Well, where is your Godfather now?" He gave way to a smug
    grin, shutting the door without waiting for an answer.
    Harry stared around the room in dismay. There was no way to get a
    letter to Sirius now, even if he could get Hedwig out. His stomach
    growled, painfully reminding him that he had yet to eat today. That
    thought made him wonder when Hedwig had eaten last. With nothing else
    to do, Harry laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to
    figure a way out.
    It was still four weeks until school started again, so Professor
    Dumbledore noticing him missing wasn't an option for a while. He
    thought about Ron and Hermione, but how could they get him out if he
    couldn't communicate with them? Troubled thoughts like these ran
    through his mind until he finally drifted off to sleep.
    Ten long days had crept by with the same scene everyday, Aunt
    Petunia let him out twice a day, and gave him food through the air vent
    in the door. Dudley occasionally came by, saying something like: "Don't
    go anywhere now!" and nightly Uncle Vernon stopped by to ask Harry
    where his Godfather was, and then laugh loudly as he passed by. Harry
    had felt like the Dursley's had finally sank to an all time low, even
    for them. And if he ever did manage to get out, he was never coming
    back no matter what anyone -even Dumbledore- said.
    The clock on the small table beside Harry's bed read 9:07 p.m.
    when he first heard the disturbance downstairs. At first he thought
    Dudley was just throwing another fit over the diet Aunt Petunia had
    put him on, but it was soon clear that this wasn't the case. A shrill
    scream echoed up the steps and Harry could hear Uncle Vernon, his voice
    strangely high pitched, talking quickly.
    Curiously, Harry got on the floor, pressing his ear to the air
    vent in the door and listening. "You're... you're, oh, yes-Harry has
    mentioned you," Vernon was stuttering and Harry could almost see him
    wringing his hands before his giant stomach. "But, the boy, well-he's
    not here, no. Went to that friend of his, eh, John wasn't it?"
    "Harry is not at Ron's," a deep voice stated and Harry felt his
    heart jump into his throat. It was Sirius - he was here!
    Feeling happier than he thought he ever would again, Harry
    pressed his mouth against the small metal bars. "Sirius! I'm up here!"
    he yelled at the top of his voice. As if trying to help, Hedwig began
    hooting loudly from inside her cage.
    There was a deafening silence downstairs, and then what sounded
    like a herd of elephants trudging across the living room. Just seconds
    afterwards Harry heard someone come up the stairs and to his door.
    "_Alohomora_," Sirius said. The door swung open.
    Harry stood dumbstruck in the light spilling out from the hall,
    staring at his Godfather. He couldn't think of anything to say, but
    apparently he didn't need to. Sirius let out a breath he seemed to have
    been holding and smiled slightly. "Alright, Harry?"
    "I am now," Harry said, catching a glimpse of the Dursley's at
    the bottom of the stairs, looking livid.
    Sirius looked into the room Harry had spent the last ten days in
    and seemed to swell with rage. His eyes took on an icy glint, but when
    he spoke to Harry, his voice was warm and comforting. "Get your things,
    Harry, we're leaving."
    It was better than he dreamed it. Harry had just snatched up
    Hedwig's cage when something dawned on him. "Er-Sirius, I don't know
    where my stuff is. Uncle Vernon took it and..." But he stopped short.
    Sirius was no longer in the doorway. Harry, still carrying a rather
    happy Hedwig, followed his Godfather down to where he was ordering
    Vernon to tell him the whereabouts of Harry's belongings.
    Uncle Vernon wiped the sweat off his red forehead, still watching
    Sirius with a definite look of horror. Harry came down the steps,
    giving his uncle a look of satisfaction, much like the one Vernon had
    displayed a hundred times in the last two weeks. While Harry knew this act
    was a bit childish, he really couldn't find a good enough excuse not to
    do it. Not even daring to scowl while Sirius was so close, Uncle Vernon
    pointed to the basement door. Harry retrieved his trunk quickly and
    went to stand next to Sirius at the front door.
    As they started out Uncle Vernon suddenly found his voice again.
    "Where-where are you taking him?"
    "Don't worry about it," Sirius replied before Harry could do more
    than look back. "As his Godfather and guardian, I'll take care of him.
    You need not worry about seeing him again."
    Harry noted that Uncle Vernon looked rather relieved, but it
    didn't bother him any. He was finally leaving Privet Drive for good.
    Not looking back again, he kept in pace with Sirius until they reached
    the end of the street. There he let Hedwig out of her cage and, giving
    a grateful hoot, she soared up into the night sky. "So, where are we
    going?" Harry asked.
    "You are going to the Weasley's," Sirius answered quietly,
    sounding disappointed. "I still have some things that need to be taken
    care of."
    _Of course_, Harry thought as they started down the street again,
    _Voldemort had regained power_. Sirius would be too busy helping
    Dumbledore to look after him day and night. But when this was all over
    with, surely then he could have a home with his Godfather. Still, he
    was happy to be away from the Dursley's - and he loved staying at The
    Burrow, anyway.
    They walked one street over, Harry wondering idly how they would
    get to Ron's when suddenly Sirius started up the sidewalk of a house
    Harry recognized. It was Mrs. Figg's house, the woman that Uncle Vernon
    had always gotten to look after Harry while they went out. Puzzled,
    Harry followed Sirius without question. Sirius rang the doorbell and a
    few moments later an elderly woman came to the door and ushered them
    inside, casting a fugitive glance behind them towards the empty street.
    "Been waiting for half an hour," she barked at Sirius, closing
    four locks on the door and turning around. She seemed different,
    somehow, than Harry remembered her. It actually took him a moment to
    realize she was wearing robes. He blinked and stared - surely she
    wasn't...
    "Why are you staring at me like that, Harry Potter?" she asked,
    but she seemed more amused than angry.
    Harry stuttered, his mouth open but not seeming to work properly.
    Finally he managed a small voice. "You're a...umm..."
    "A witch, boy!" Mrs. Figg finished for him, smiling and showing
    her missing teeth. "Can't imagine 'ur Aunt and Uncle knowing that,
    seeings they let me watch you all the time. Strange muggles, they
    are," she muttered, going to the fireplace and getting down a large
    basin and taking the lid off. Harry continued to stare, wondering just
    how this night could grow any more peculiar.
    Sirius took a handful of powder from the basin and turned to
    Harry. "You know what Floo Powder is?"
    "Yeah, I used it at Ron's before," Harry said, though nearly
    through gritted teeth. He hadn't much cared for Floo Powder the few
    times he had used it, but he also knew he wasn't in the position to be
    picky about traveling.
    Sirius threw a handful of powder into the fire and instantly the
    flames turned emerald green. "Go on ahead of me, I need to talk to
    Arabella real quick." Harry walked into the fire with his trunk, but
    turned around at the last second. Sirius must have known what he was
    going to say, because he held up his hand. "Go on, I'll be right behind
    you."
    Harry nodded and walked into the flames. He took his glasses off,
    placed them securely in his pocket and closed his eyes. "The Burrow!"
    he shouted, instantly feeling a rush of air sweep past him as
    everything started turning rapidly. He tucked his elbows tight against
    his side and closed his eyes, praying it would be over soon. Just as
    his stomach gave a lurch like he would be sick, he slowed down until
    finally he stopped in the Weasley's fireplace.
    He had only taken one step out when suddenly something hard hit
    his chest and knocked him backwards. All he could see was a mass of
    frizzy brown hair pressed against him. "Harry! We've been worried
    sick!" Hermione gasped, pulling herself away and allowing him to get
    further in the room. Ron stood just behind her, making faces like one
    who was gagging. Hermione turned sharply but Ron stopped just as she
    turned. Harry felt his chest lighten considerably as he laughed. It
    felt so good to laugh.
    Almost instantly, however, Harry was pulled into another hug.
    Mrs. Weasley looked absolutely beside herself as she stood back and
    looked him over from head to toe and began clucking her tongue against
    the roof of her mouth. "Look at you! Just look at you! Don't imagine
    you've eaten a descent meal in a month! Ooh! I told Dumbledore to let
    you stay with us, but with all that's going on he - Well, I'll just
    make you something to eat," she mumbled, sounding somewhat like an
    angry chicken.
    "Gave us all a small scare there, Harry," Ron said as the three
    walked further in the living room. "Pig kept coming back with the
    letters I sent you, so that's when we contacted Sirius."
    "I don't think it would have taken much to convince Sirius to
    come get me, he didn't want me going back to the Dursley's this year
    no more than I wanted to," Harry explained, not feeling up to going
    into details about his summer just yet.
    Harry sat down on the sofa, Ron and Hermione sitting on either
    side. They could vaguely hear Mrs. Weasley still muttering to herself
    in the kitchen. Ron shook his head in a dejected sort of way. "That's
    Mum's way of handing stress; make everyone something to eat."
    "I'm not complaining," Harry said, exhaling deeply. "She's right
    about one thing, I haven't had a good meal since we left Hogwarts." He
    turned then, to Hermione, who looked a great deal calmer than when he
    had first arrived. If it hadn't been such an odd night, Harry might
    have tactfully brought up the subject of Hermione being at The Burrow.
    As it was, Harry took the more direct approach. "How come you're here?"
    Pushing her hair back from her face, Hermione gave a worried
    glance towards the door. "Well, Mr. Weasley thought it best I stayed
    with Ron for the summer, since my Mum and Dad are Muggles. With all
    that's going on..."
    "What is going on?" Harry nearly whispered, feeling his stomach
    give another lurch. "Obviously having the _Daily Prophet_
    delievered was forbidden at the Dursley's."
    "As far as we know, nothing. The Daily Prophet's been quiet so
    far..." Hermione began, but stopped suddenly as the fire roared up,
    green flames dancing higher and higher until suddenly a figure stepped
    slowly out.
    Sirius bent his head down to keep from hitting it on the mantel
    as he stepped further in, brushing soot off his tattered robes. He
    looked up at the three sitting on the couch, giving them a tired smile.
    "Well, that went as well as expected, eh Harry?" he said, looking
    around the living room uneasily.
    Harry nodded, but didn't go into any details. He was much more
    interested in returning to the topic he, Hermione, and Ron had been
    discussing earlier. However, before Harry could gain the information he
    so desired, the group was interrupted by the sound of footsteps -very
    loud footsteps- coming down the stairs.
    "And don't forget about the Nose-Nippers, we have to finish
    testing them!" a voice was saying.
    "Uh oh." Hermione was wearing a wry grin. "Sirius' fan club is
    coming. Should we hide any breakables?" Sirius just looked confused.
    While he would gladly admit that he was devastatingly handsome, he'd
    never known that he had a fan club. Harry sensed his godfather's
    confusion, but did not bother to enlighten him.
    "I'd like you to meet my brothers, Fred and George. They may want
    autographs, so I'd have a quill ready," Ron said, a grin not unlike his
    brothers' playing on his face.
    It wasn't until the twins were standing at the foot of the stairs
    that they detected the presence of the two new visitors. The second
    Fred noticed them he came to a dead halt. Sadly, this caused George to
    collide into his brother, sending them both sprawling to the ground.
    Harry laughed at the sight, realizing just how much he'd missed the
    Weasley family.
    When both boys had untangled themselves, and were standing once
    more, all they could do was gape. Finally, Fred spoke. "You-you're a
    convict."
    "And knew the marauders!" George exclaimed. Harry shot Ron a
    look, clearly wondering how the twins had found out this half-truth.
    George took a step closer. "Do you think... perhaps we could talk
    to you."
    "Away from our Mum," Fred whispered conspiringly.
    Harry gulped. The twins had gotten an odd glint in their eye that
    was nothing but sinister. Sirius chuckled at the pair. "And you two
    must be Fred and George. Nice to finally meet the pair that got my map
    back to Harry."
    If possible, Fred and George grew even more astounded.
    "You mean to say-"
    "That you were a marauder?"
    Sirius nodded, a smug grin stretched across his face. "Padfoot,
    at your service."
    "Bloody hell," were the only words breathed between the twins.
    And while it wasn't exactly their best exclamations to date - it did
    seem to fit the situation. Fred and George were now smiling fiendishly.
    "Mr. Black-" the addressed party suddenly cut off George.
    "Please, call me Sirius."
    Fred and George were suffering from euphoria. "Sirius," George
    started again. "My brother and I are opening a prank shop, we're
    calling it Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, or 3W for short-"
    This time, they weren't cut off for as nice a reason as was
    Sirius'.
    "Oh no you don't!" Molly Weasley had just stormed into the room,
    spatula in hand. "I don't want you bothering Mr. Black with any of your
    joke shop ideas! Really, you should try to get jobs like your brother
    Percy!"
    Every Weasley, excluding Molly, in the room gave way to groans.
    "Mum, while we know that you love Percy more than us," Fred pretended
    to be deeply hurt, "we thought you knew us better than that."
    "Yes, Fred and I just aren't cut out for the life of a Bighead
    Boy." Molly glared, not finding the humor in the nickname bestowed upon
    Percy Weasley long ago. "Er-I mean, my wonderful brother," George
    corrected quickly.
    Molly contemplated, and after a tense second, softened under Fred
    and George's now puppy-like eyes. "Yes, I don't think you two could
    handle an enclosed office space. Perhaps it's better you don't work for
    the Ministry anyway, what with all the recent tragedies."
    "Speaking of which," Harry interrupted, feeling the ernest (well,
    humorous, anyways) exchange between Molly Weasley and her sons was over
    with. "What's going on?"
    Molly shook her head, swatting the air with the spatula like it
    was a flyswatter. "Come on, talk over some food. Both of you look
    nearly starved to death," she commented, her eyes boring into Harry and
    his Godfather. "Come on now, get in here and eat while it's hot."
    Harry shrugged, not about to decline a good meal. He and Sirius
    got up, following Hermione and the Weasley boys into the kitchen. They
    gathered around the table as Mrs. Weasley began placing full bowls of
    food on the table before them. Harry and Sirius both began filling
    their plates as Hermione finished the conversation Sirius had
    interrupted not too long before. "The Daily Prophet hasn't even said
    anything about You-Know-Who. I doubt they even known that he has risen
    again."
    "They know," Sirius said. "They just don't want to believe it.
    Fudge went crazy after leaving Hogwarts last year, only half accepting
    what Dumbledore told him. He started some ruckus at the Ministry, but
    thankfully Arthur and I got to some of the people who would believe us
    before it all blew up." He heaved a great sigh, putting his fork down.
    "I can't believe some of the stuff that people are saying. They are
    just so blinded by..." He stopped, noticing for the first time that
    every person in the room was hanging on his every word. "Well, you
    don't need to worry about it. Just do your school work, and stay out of
    trouble," he said, his eyes on Harry, Ron and Hermione. "Leave the rest
    up to grown Witches and Wizards."
    The trio addressed fought back the urge to say something along
    the lines of the pot calling the kettle black.
    Harry wanted to argue, to say that he was plenty old enough to
    hear what was going on with Voldemort, especially since he had been
    there the night he had been resurrected. Yet something about the look
    on Sirius' face said he wasn't going to get much further with his
    Godfather tonight.
    "I agree," Molly said, giving her wand a wave and sending Sirius
    and Harry's dirty dishes flying into the sink as a bowl of dessert
    passed by to land in the middle of the table. "Besides, you have your
    O.W.L.s this year, don't forget. And with the disappointment from Fred
    and George, I'll be expecting better from you, Ron."
    O.W.L.s - or Ordinary Wizarding Levels - was something Harry had
    been dreading for the better part of the summer. The test was mandatory
    for all fifth year students, and was bound to be a nightmare. Some of
    his classes he had no problems in, but others -particularly Potions- he
    had no idea how he had passed so far, let alone manage to pass this
    year. Trying not to think about it, he dug into his pudding. "Well at
    least I can practice Quidditch," he said, noting that Sirius' head
    jerked up like he was about to say something. Thankfully he didn't,
    Harry wasn't sure he could endure not being able to ride his Firebolt.
    The conversation dwindled down from there until Harry and Sirius
    were done with their dessert (This took longer than expected since
    Harry couldn't fight off the urge to have a second helping.) Fred and
    George were still in the room, staring at Sirius with identical
    awestruck expressions, probably still finding it hard to believe their
    luck. Suddenly, there were several crashes outside, followed by a tiny
    giggling voice, proceeded by hissing and another crash, causing the
    occupants of the room to turn towards the door. Harry went to reach for
    his wand, terrified that they were being attacked, but relaxed when he
    looked over at his friend. Hermione shook her head, grinning.
    "Crookshanks still hasn't caught a gnome. Though goodness knows it's
    not for lack of effort."
    "Has a liking for them, does he?" Sirius chuckled. Harry watched
    with a small smile of contentment. It wasn't often he got to see his
    Godfather relaxed, he wished the times weren't so few and far between.
    It was times like these when he was reminded so much of the man
    standing beside his parents in the photo album he had. Sirius stood
    suddenly, Harry looking up at him in surprise. "Well, I need to be
    heading out."
    "Already?" Harry asked, disappointment dripping from his voice.
    It seemed he never got to spend as much time with Sirius as he would
    like to; never got to say all he wanted. It seemed the only time he got
    to do anything with his Godfather was when some type of dastardly evil
    (the Dursleys included) was at hand.
    Sirius nodded, his eyes once more darkened, the laughter no
    longer lingering in their depths. "Still have things to get done. But
    you'll see me soon enough, I'll be hanging around Hogwarts a lot this
    year. I imagine Voldemort may try to show up there." Ron gave a shiver
    at the sound of the name and Hermione's eyes grew large. "Don't worry
    too much about it, though. Dumbledore is there, remember? Voldemort
    hasn't stood up to him yet, and I don't think he has the guts even
    now." Everybody contemplated, hoping Sirius' words were true.
    "I'll walk you out," Harry said softly, pushing himself back from
    the table to stand. Ron started to stand also, but Hermione grabbed his
    arm, effectively pulling him back down to his seat and giving him a
    stern look.
    Sirius and Harry walked out to the back gate, watching
    Crookshanks run across the lawn, hissing and spitting as a gnome
    giggled gleefully just a foot a head of him. Sirius' dark eyes turned
    to Harry as he finally spoke. "Keep out of trouble while I'm away,
    alright? Stay close to Ron and Hermione, and even Fred and George.
    Don't wander off alone and always let Mrs. Weasley know where you
    are." Harry nodded silently, not quite trusting himself to speak just
    yet. Another long moment passed between the two, ended by Sirius
    sighing deeply. "If you need anything send Hedwig, she'll find me."
    "Okay," Harry mumbled, staring off into the night. His eyes
    traveled back to his godfather as a horrible thought ran through his
    mind. What if this was the last time he ever saw him? He didn't think
    he could stand to lose Sirius like he had his parents. Though he had
    never truly known Lily or James Potter, Harry missed the idea of them.
    Sirius had taken over as his parent figure as of late, just by his
    obvious affection for his godson. He defiantly beat out the Dursleys in
    that department. Instantly a shiver shot up Harry's spine. "Be careful,
    Sirius," Harry told him, trying with all his might to keep his voice
    steady.
    Sirius nodded and turned to walk away, but stopped as if changing
    his mind. Harry didn't even think about what he was doing, he just
    suddenly shot forward and hugged Sirius. The older man seemed taken
    aback for a moment before returning the gesture. Both seemed reluctant
    to part, savoring the moment as it continued on. As they backed away
    from each other, Sirius had a smile on his face that made him seem ten
    years younger. "See you in a couple of weeks, Harry," Sirius said and
    with a small swooshing sound turned into a giant black dog. Wagging his
    tail once, he turned and started running off into the woods,
    disappearing into the empty beyond.
    "I'll take that as a promise, Sirius," Harry whispered, not
    caring that his Godfather had not heard him. With a heavy heart, Harry
    turned to go back inside the house to join Ron and Hermione. As he
    pulled the back screen door open Fred and George popped out of nowhere,
    both their eyes scanning the darkness behind Harry. "Is he gone?" Fred
    asked, looking as disheartened as Harry felt. Harry nodded, walking
    past the twins and into the living room where Hermione and Ron were
    waiting for him, now joined by a younger red head.
    To this day Ginny Weasley had naught but to see Harry before her
    face turned as red as her hair; it seemed today would be no exception.
    She had managed to stop dropping things and had somehow found her
    voice, though. "Hi Harry," she said, her eyes growing like she was
    afraid of how her voice sounded.
    Harry smiled slightly, so slightly he wasn't even sure his lips
    had moved at all, and plopped down next to Ron. The room grew into an
    uneasy silence, no one knowing what to say or what to do. Hermione,
    despite herself, yawned, her eyes burning. Throwing a sympathetic look
    towards Harry, she stood up. "Harry, I'm afraid we're going to have to
    catch up in the morning." She yawned again. "I'm off to bed," she said
    softly. Ginny stood up quickly, also giving one last longing glance
    towards the two wizards on the sofa before following.
    "Good night," said Ginny, pushing a piece of red hair out of her
    face as she turned to go up the steps to her room. Neither Harry nor
    Ron took much notice of their absence. Both just sat, in an
    understanding silence, staring at the dancing flames of the fire. It
    wasn't until Mrs. Weasley called for everyone to get in bed that the
    two got up and went to bed.
    As Harry laid on a make shift cot, listening to the ghoul in the
    attic clank on pipes, he tried not to think about where Sirius was at
    the moment. It was hard not to think of Voldemort at full power, of
    Sirius being out there in the mist of another impending war - to think
    of anything that had happened or eventually would happen. For Harry had
    known, deep inside him, that this day would come. He had been dreading
    it since the moment he learned the truth of how his parents had died;
    exactly four years ago today.
    --End Chapter 1.
    And there you have it, chapter one. Dang, but it took a long time for
    Fleur and I to get our acts together and get this done :) It will probably
    take a while for us to get chapter two out, so just content yourselves
    to review this chapter while you wait ^_~ You never know, it may help us get
    the next one done faster. Of course, it helps to know that someone is
    reading, and perhaps even (*gasp*) like it! So review, k? ^_^
    We do not own Harry Potter or pertaining characters in any form nor fashion,
    however we do have some rights to this story line, so don't steal it or we
    will become angry. And an angry Bethany and Fleur is not good - no, no, no!
    


	2. The Best Birthday

~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~  
Sirius Trouble  
By: Bethany and Fleur  
Rated: PG  
Chapter 2 - The best birthday  
~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~  
  
  
  

    
    
    Harry very well may have forgotten where he was when he awoke the
    next morning. It was all too good to be true, after all. He was away
    from the Dursley's, at his best friend Ron's house. Sirius had come and
    rescued him at last. Yes, it seemed like one long dream that Harry
    didn't want to let go of. Burrowing further in the blankets, he tried
    his best to ignore the noises and crashes that wanted to wake him up.
    Just a few more minutes and then he'd have to open his eyes and look
    around at the pitch dark room that he lived in.
    "Harry! Ron! Get up!" a voice hollered.
    Harry's eyes popped open instantly. He groped next to him for his
    glasses and after putting them on his face, stared around at his
    surroundings with a huge smile. Zooming in and out of brightly colored
    posters that hung on every available space on the wall was Ron's
    favorite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons. His eyes hungrily
    switched from poster to poster and then to the ceiling as the ghoul
    began banging pipes in response to Mrs. Weasley's voice. Slowly the
    blanket on the bed next to him began moving as Ron emerged from it and
    sat up, looking around dumbly; his hair sticking up in every direction.
    His eyes focused on Harry and he yawned. "Morning H-H-'arry," he said,
    yawning again.
    "Morning Ron," Harry replied, getting up. The two started down
    the zigzagging staircase to the kitchen just as Mrs. Weasley was
    placing sausage on everyone's plates. "Good morning Mrs. Weasley,"
    Harry greeted as he took his seat between Ron and George.
    "Good morning, Harry, dear," Molly Weasley said as she waved her
    wand over a plate of biscuits and had them fly over to the table. Harry
    still couldn't get enough of everything at The Burrow. Since it was a
    complete wizarding family, everything was, of course, magic. From the
    talking mirror in the kitchen (it had already informed Harry that he
    needed a haircut multiple times) to the dishes Mrs. Weasley made wash
    themselves.
    Suddenly the chorus of voices came to an abrupt halt as the swack
    of an owl caught their ears. Hedwig, who was sitting on a perch near
    the door, looked outside with her haughtiest look of disapproval. It
    wasn't long until they would see why, either. Coming from the west was
    a large gray-feathered object. It barreled into the kitchen, barely
    missing the doorway and fell flat faced on the kitchen table. "Errol,"
    Fred mumbled, shaking his head as he picked the owl up and took a
    handful of letters from its grasp. He scanned the envelopes quickly and
    passed them out. "School letters."
    Harry took his envelope, identical to everyone else's, and tore
    it open. As usual it said to catch the Hogwarts Express from King's
    Cross Station on September first at eleven o'clock. On a separate piece
    of parchment was the year's list of books. Harry wasn't sure, of
    course, what would be different. But with Voldemort back to power, he
    thought something should be changed. However, the letters were the same
    as every other year's.
    "Here's your letters, too," Mrs. Weasley said, handing letters to
    Ginny and Hermione. They had just descended the stairs, both still in
    gowns. They sat down at the table, ripping theirs open as well.
    There was another sound and again everyone looked up expectantly
    as another owl came zooming in the room. This one was a minute owl that
    was flying in circles around Hermione's head so fast that Harry was
    sure it would fall from the air in dizziness any second. "Pig!" Ron
    yelled, standing up and trying to catch the owl before it got some of
    Hermione's hair caught in its claws. "Stop, you stupid thing!"
    But the owl didn't stop; happily it zoomed around in circles,
    making God awful noises of pleasure at having delivered a letter. Ron
    was leaning over Hermione, who ducked, and again made a snatch for the
    owl. He missed, lost his footing and fell on top of Hermione before
    Harry could do more than blink. Both Ron and Hermione fell to the floor
    with a loud crash, Hermione's plate of food landing on Ron's back.
    "Ron, what have we told you about playing with your food?" George
    said, not bothering to hold back a laugh.
    "To do so at all times," Ron shot back, still in bad temper.
    "Er...Ron, do you think you could get off me?" a voice from under
    Ron spoke, coming from a rather squashed Hermione. As it was, Ron was
    sprawled on top of her, food dripping from his body. The second Ron
    noticed his face turned as red as a fire engine, missing only the
    blinking lights. He quickly shot up, not even bothering to help
    Hermione. His friend looked up at him annoyed, obviously having noticed
    Ron's lack of etiquette. 'Then again,' Harry mused, 'Etiquette seemed
    to have been forgotten when Ron dove over Hermione.'
    "Good thing you didn't impale yourself on her prefect's badge,
    Ron," Harry said, noticing the glittering silver object Hermione was
    hugging to her chest. Ron gave Harry a dirty look. Just then Pig landed
    on Harry's shoulder, still hooting happily. With one last chirp he
    dropped an envelope onto the boy's lap, before taking off excitedly.
    "Why are all my pets so... wrong?" Ron asked out loud. However,
    nobody seemed to notice the rhetorical state of the question, causing
    various answers to ensue.
    "At least this one isn't evil, at least, I think it's not," said
    Ginny.
    "Perhaps it's just you Ron," Fred started.
    "Yes, perhaps they're attracted to your oddness," finished
    George.
    Harry just smiled and winked at Hermione, who was only now
    getting off the floor. She winked back and started to brush the food
    off Ron's back. "Oh dear, Ron, you really are a mess," she chastised.
    Ron barely kept from growling.
    Meanwhile, Harry was examining his letter. The envelope read,
    "Mr. Harry Potter" with neat handwriting addressing "The Burrow." Harry
    shrugged before he started to tear at the side, carefully extracting
    the letter. The parchment that fell out immediately opened, portraying
    a black box.
    "Is this somebody's idea of a joke?" Harry asked.
    "No, Harry, it's a parchograph," George said from his seat.
    "A what?"
    Hermione rolled her eyes, it was obvious she knew the answer, but
    then again, she always did. "A parchograph, a means of sending a
    message by word of mouth, while still using letter format." Harry just
    stared. Hermione came over and tapped the paper with her wand, causing
    the black box to swirl until a face came into view.
    "It's Professor Lupin!" Harry exclaimed.
    Indeed, it was the retired Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.
    "Hello Harry!" The letterform of the man said, "Happy Birthday! Just
    thought I'd let you know that Snuffles is ok," Lupin winked here. "Stay
    out of trouble, ok? And mind Mrs. Weasley. I'll be seeing you soon!"
    The picture became a black swirl once again, finally becoming a black
    square that folded itself nicely on the table.
    "Amazing," Harry whispered.
    "Why are they always telling us to stay out of trouble?" queried
    Ron. Everybody gave him a pointed look. "Oh, right."
    Carefully Harry placed the parchment back in the envelope when he
    noticed something he hadn't seen before. Laying on the table before him
    was a small box that had strict instructions to open privately. Ron
    leaned over Harry's shoulder, examining it. "Look!" he said, pointing.
    "There's a note on it."
    He plucked the small note off, unfolding it under the gazes of
    six other people. It read:
    _Harry, your mother left this in my possession for
    you when you were old enough. I think it's time.
    Happy Birthday.
    Sirius_
    Harry felt his heart begin to race in his chest. What could his
    mother have possibly left him? Hermione, having leaned over Ron and
    read the note as well, stood up. "Ron, why don't you all practice
    Quidditch?"
    "Why?" Ron asked, still staring at the letter with apt curiosity.
    His reward was Hermione jabbing him in the ribs: hard. "Oh! Okay!" he
    said, rubbing his ribs. "You going to get your Firebolt?" he asked
    Harry.
    Numbly Harry, having caught on to Hermione faster than Ron,
    nodded and stood up. Still staring at the box in his hands, he walked
    through the kitchen. He ran up the stairs two at a time, clutching the
    box in his hands as if he were afraid it would disappear if he didn't.
    He burst into Ron's room and sat on the bed, inspecting the brightly
    colored box in his hands. It seemed ordinary enough, but Harry knew
    that most things weren't ordinary when it came to the wizarding world.
    And this box was different, he already knew. It was from his mother.
    Taking great pains Harry gently pulled apart the seal and pulled
    off the red foil paper. Staring back from him underneath was a small
    wooden container with his initials carved in the top, surrounding by
    what looked suspiciously like snitches. He ran his finger across the
    carvings and down to the latch that would open it. He bit his lip; what
    did he expect to find in there, anyways? A letter, perhaps? Something
    that once belonged to his mother? Excited by the prospect, he gently
    pulled the latch back and the small top flew backwards.
    Inside lay a beautiful gold watch. Puzzled, Harry reached in to
    pick it up when suddenly a bright light shot out of the box, followed
    shortly by a flickering image in the bedroom floor. The image grew
    clearer and clearer until it took the shape of a young girl - no older
    than twenty - with auburn hair and striking green eyes. "Hello Harry,"
    a soft voice said, full of love.
    Harry's eyes widened as he stared at his mother's smiling, though
    sad, figure standing in the room with him. She didn't look a day older
    than she had in the pictures he had, if anything, she was more
    beautiful in person. She sighed, though still keeping an angelic smile
    on her face. "Mum?" Harry whispered, hardly wanting to believe what his
    eyes seen.
    "James didn't want me to make this," came her voice. "But I
    couldn't help but thinking that we may get caught. I suppose we
    did..." her voice trailed off as she stared at Harry. She bit her lip
    softly, her hands flexing like she longed to reach out, but didn't
    dare. "You look so much like your father..."
    "Can you see me?" asked Harry, astonished. He shot up from the
    bed, just a foot or so in front of his mother. "But how?"
    This time she did reach out to him, and surprisingly Harry felt a
    cold hand gently smooth back the wild hair from his head. Determinedly
    it stuck straight out, despite Lily's attempts to tame it. "I've saved
    a part of myself in his box. It's possible, you know. Though very
    difficult. It took me months to figure it out, and a great amount of
    magic to do it. Unfortunately, I only have enough energy stored for
    about fifteen minutes."
    Harry nodded. He vividly remembered Voldemort doing the same
    thing, only in a diary, his second year at Hogwarts. At least his
    mother did it for a purely unselfish reason. "Does it mean every time I
    open this box, I can see you?" asked Harry wistfully.
    Lily failed even a sad smile when Harry said this. She took a
    step forward, running a cold hand down the side of Harry's face. "No,
    darling. It's a one time only deal, I'm afraid. I wish it weren't." She
    sat on the edge of the bed, Harry sitting down next to her, still
    staring like a hungry dog would food. "How old are you now?"
    "I turned fifteen today."
    This time she did manage another loving smile at her only son.
    "You do look remarkably like James, but your eyes... you have my
    eyes." She laughed softly, the sound like music to Harry's ears. "You
    were born with blue eyes. For a while we were sure they would stay that
    way. Sirius swore he would hex them green if they didn't turn on their
    own. But finally they did." She laughed in remembrance and Harry
    listened intently to her voice, trying to store it to his memory
    forever.
    For as long as Harry could remember, he had dreamt of sitting
    beside his mother. In his mind he had gone over the things he would say
    to her; but now that the moment had came, all he could do was stare
    incredibly. He realized that he was allowing precious time to slip
    away, however, and forced his mind to think of something to say.
    "What's this?" he asked softly, once again reaching inside the box,
    this time pulling out the watch to examine it.
    Lily's eyes flickered with some unknown emotion before she smiled
    and took the watch from Harry's hand. "A little something I made just
    after your father and I got married." She laughed at the memory,
    adjusting on the bed and beckoning Harry to join her. "I had the
    hardest time getting James, Sirius, Peter and Remus home before their
    dinner was stone cold. I threatened to make something to find them, as
    a joke. But actually, it was very helpful. James used it many times to
    find people during the war. Perhaps it will prove useful for you, as
    well." She reached down, pushing a button on the side of the watch.
    "Push this button and speak the full name of the person you wish to
    find and an arrow will flash here when you are facing the right
    direction. As you draw closer, the faster the flash will get."
    Harry had hardly time to consider how useful this maybe when he
    felt his mother's arms wrap around him tightly. It was odd, at first.
    Harry hadn't known much affection in his life, especially since the
    Dursley's would rather eat slugs than touch him. The sensation was new
    on him, and for some reason his mother's skin was cold. But it didn't
    matter, being hugged for the first time he could remember by his
    mother, it felt warm and heavenly. He allowed her to hold his head
    close to her chest and run her fingers through his unruly hair.
    "My baby boy," she whispered and it sounded like she was on the
    verge of tears. "James' son... He was so happy the day you were born.
    I've never seen him glow that way, not even the day we were married.
    And then I'm assuming Voldemort came..." Harry cringed, this part he
    knew. His third year when the Dementors were at Hogwarts, he heard her
    voice every time he got near them. Screaming, trying to protect him...
    dying... His mother's voice seemed to jump up an octave. "But you're
    with Sirius, and even though I've wondered about how he might corrupt
    you, I'm sure he's a good father."
    When Harry didn't answer, Lily pulled away and looked at him
    quizzingly. "Harry? Sirius is a good father, right? You're happy?"
    Harry didn't have the heart to tell her that he hadn't lived with
    Sirius, but her muggle sister. Her time was short, and there was no
    reason to fill it with unhappiness. Besides, he thought, I'm away from
    that now. He nodded. "Sirius is great and I'm happy," he confirmed.
    Lily looked like she knew he was holding something back, but
    didn't pursue it. Instead her eyes fixed on the bright orange Quidditch
    players zooming in and out of posters along the wall. "A Chudley
    Cannons fan, are you?" she whispered, trying to lighten the subject.
    Harry shook his head, giving her a lopsided grin. "No. They're
    Ron's, my best friend," he added when her eyebrows wrinkled up. He
    recognized it as something Hermione had claimed he done when he was
    really concentrating on something. "This is Ron's room, I'm staying
    here until school starts."
    "I see," Lily smiled, taking a longer look at her son. She seem
    to notice that the clothes he wore was at least four sizes too big and
    his cheeks were gaunt from lack of food. "Where's Sirius now?"
    Harry's eyes darted over his mother's shoulder. "He's at
    Professor Lupin's."
    Suddenly Lily's face contorted and her mouth fell open. Harry
    backed up, surprised as laughter spilled from Lily's lips.
    "Professor?!" she gasped, looking as though she might collapse into
    giggles. "You're talking about Remus Lupin, right? Moony? A
    Professor?" And again she broke into laughter that nearly had her to
    tears. "Oh if only James could see him now..."
    Harry couldn't imagine what would be so funny about sober
    Professor Lupin being a teacher. Quizzingly he stared at his mother.
    She caught her breath, tears still lingering in her eyes. "I'm sorry,
    Harry. You'd have to had known him in school to understand. He, James,
    Sirius and Peter got into so much mischief that it's hard to picture
    him a Professor. Oh, McGonagall had her hands full with them..."
    Harry wished he did know about it. He wished that he had a mother
    and father that could tell him the stories of their youth. He wanted to
    know when his mother and father meet, how they fell in love. He wanted
    to know about the things his father and his friends did when they were
    in school. He wished more than anything to be a normal kid.
    The scar on his forehead stung oddly, stopping just as soon as it
    began hurting. Harry flinched, idly reaching for it out of habit.
    Instantly Lily's eyes flashed with concern and she reached out,
    brushing the hair from the cut. "Harry!" she gasped, green eyes wide.
    "How did you get this?"
    Harry cursed himself inwardly for averting her attention to it to
    begin with. He gently removed her hand from it, flattening his bangs
    down over it again. "It's nothing, I've had it since.... well,
    since..." his voice trailed off, but he needn't had said anymore
    anyways. Lily's eyes clouded over and as she once more reached out and
    ran her finger over the cut.
    "Voldemort?"
    Harry barely had time to be surprised at hearing his mother say
    the oh-so-dreaded name for trying to figure out if he should lie to her
    about it or not. He shrugged, going for a half truth instead. "No one
    really knows what happened that night." Evasive, but effective. Or
    maybe Lily just knew Harry didn't want to talk about it, because with
    great reluctantly she broke her stare from his head.
    Unfortunately it wasn't because Harry didn't want to talk about
    the Dark Lord that Lily let him go. Her body was growing fainter. The
    fifteen minutes was nearly up. Harry watched in horror as her hands
    grew paler and then transparent. His green eyes darted up to hers,
    silently pleading. "Mum?" he whispered, his voice barely recognizable.
    It seemed there was a frog sitting in his throat.
    Lily wrapped her arms around Harry tightly, her lips on his
    forehead. Oddly enough her lips seemed warm, where the rest of her
    touches had been cold before then. She squeezed her eyes shut, as if
    silently praying, her body disappearing still. "Harry, I love you.
    James and I both love you so much. I'm so proud of the young man you've
    become."
    As Lily's form flickered, Harry felt the frog in his throat block
    his breathing. His eyes stung sharply, filling with tears that he
    didn't want to shed. "I love you Mum..."
    She was gone.
    Harry stared at the place that not thirty seconds before his
    mother had sat, and let a tear slip un-noticed down his face. And
    another. He hadn't cried since he was little, but he couldn't help it.
    He had been too young to grieve for his parents when they died, instead
    he had felt a hollow emptiness in his chest. A hollowness that suddenly
    felt intensified. He dropped his head in his hands, trying to grasp the
    sound of Lily's voice and engrave it in his mind.
    He didn't hear the door creak further open, or the soft footfalls
    of Ginny Weasley as she crossed the carpet. He only realized he wasn't
    alone when she sat down next to him. His mind faintly registered shock
    when suddenly she wrapped her arms around him, resting her cheek on his
    shoulder.
    He said nothing as she held him. There was nothing to say. Words
    were always clumsy at a time like this, and Ginny seemed to understand
    that. For a few moments they sat in silence until Harry managed to gain
    control over himself. Still then he didn't move, only marveled at how
    calming Ginny's actions were. Somewhere between his second year and
    now, the little girl that used to run away or drop something every time
    she seen him had vanished. Although she usually managed a blush, she
    seemed sure of herself and her actions as she comforted him.
    Harry sat back slowly, Ginny following his lead. Her eyes were
    full of sadness for him, but not pity. Just sadness. As if she were
    trying to imagine a life time without her mother and father and not
    being able to bear it. Harry stared into her blue eyes for a long
    moment, his heart beat finally calming. Slowly he reached his hands
    towards her face, brushing a shoulder length strain of red hair from
    her cheek. She didn't shiver, but he could almost hear her heart
    pounding rapidly.
    It seemed to happen quickly and yet slowly at the same time.
    Without first realizing what it was he was doing, Harry moved his head
    closer to Ginny's and brushed his lips over hers. This time she did
    shiver, but remained put, her eyes on his. Blue meet with green in
    mutual agreement, and Harry again brought his lips to hers.
    "Harry! Ginny! What's taking you so long? We're about to start
    playing Quidditch!" Ron's voice echoed up the staircases. Following his
    voice was the sound of fast and heavy footfalls on the stairs. Harry
    and Ginny pulled away, still staring at each other. Ron came to the
    doorway, pushing it open just as Ginny leapt up from the bed. She
    didn't blush, as Harry expected, but instead smiled and then dashed out
    the door. Ron watched her go with his eyebrows creased. He then turned
    to Harry, who had managed to regain his composure the second before.
    "Why did Mum and Dad decide they needed a girl, anyways? Six boys was
    plenty," he rambled, flinging Harry's trunk open and grabbing his
    Firebolt. "Let's go!"
    Harry stood slowly, thankful Ron didn't ask about the package. He
    supposed Hermione might have had something to do with it. Taking the
    broomstick from Ron's hands and casting one, last, longing look towards
    the wooden box, he turned towards the door. "Ron, I need to talk to you
    and Hermione later," he mumbled. Ron nodded, looking cross between
    talking now and playing Quidditch later, or reverse. Still trying to
    clear his mind of everything from his Mum to kissing Ginny, Harry
    passed Ron and started down the steps. This would definitely be a
    summer he'd remember.
    Of all the things Harry loved about the wizarding world, this had
    to be the best. Air rushed at him from every angle as he zoomed through
    the air on his Firebolt, scooping down until his toes caressed the top
    of the grass and then back up towards the heavens. Up here he could
    feel the anxiety and troubles release him, leaving nothing but the
    sound of rushing wind in his ear.
    "Hey Harry! Catch!"
    Without another second's notice, Harry seen an apple go zooming
    by him. With ease that almost bordered on child's play, he flew after
    the apple, caught it, doing a flip in mid-air at the same time. "Too
    easy!" he called back down to Fred, or George. It really was hard to
    tell from his height. While he had been upstairs, Bill and Charlie,
    Ron's oldest brothers, had arrived. As he watched, Bill walked up to
    the twins, took out his wand and said something. Whatever it was had
    the identical twins grinning from ear to ear.
    "Catch this one!" Bill called, throwing the apple into the air.
    Harry knew instantly that the speed of that apple had nothing to
    do with Bill's great pitcher's arm. He was more than up to the
    challenge, however. Turning his Firebolt, he bent low to the handle and
    took off after the apple at top speed. The wind was now wiping around
    his head so fast that he could barely open his mouth. With
    determination like that he had at an actual game, Harry curved off to
    the left to avoid a tree branch before reaching his hand out to grab
    the apple. "Woohoo!" he yelled, doing a flip in the air before rushing
    back towards the ground. "The house cup is ours this year!" he
    proclaimed, landing on the ground just a few feet away from where Bill
    and the twins were staring with huge grins.
    "That was brilliant, Harry!" Bill said, nodding towards the apple
    in his hand. "I had that thing set at 150 mph and you caught it like it
    was nothing! I hope you plan to go professional, you'd make one hell of
    a seeker on the national team."
    Harry smiled, still clutching the Firebolt in his hand. "I'm not
    sure what I'll do when school ends," he admitted, but didn't go into
    details about his reasoning. Honestly, the reason he hadn't thought
    about it was because of his frequent run-ins with Voldemort. Who could
    think past tomorrow when the most dreaded Dark Wizard of all time had
    you has his prime target? He had managed to escape four times, but each
    and every time it became harder. Who knew when his luck would run out?
    Trying to keep his mind from wondering too far, Harry turned his
    head and scanned the people around him. Bill was standing next to the
    twins, and just to the left was Charlie, a broom in hand, then Ron,
    Hermione and Ginny. The only Weasley who was missing was Percy, who was
    due in any moment along with Mr. Weasley.
    "Wanna play another quick game before dinner?" Bill asked, using
    his wand to call his own broom to him. All males were more than up for
    it. Hermione and Ginny, both rolling their eyes heavenwards, walked
    over to sit under a tree and out of the hot sun. Bill enchanted the
    apple to zoom around on it's own free will -- much like the snitch,
    only easier to see -- and as soon as it was freed they all soared into
    the sky. The only thing missing was the bludgers, but Fred and George
    seem to be having fun playing the opposing team's chasers.
    Harry watched as Bill, Charlie, Fred and George fought back and
    forth for control of the quaffle, while Ron served as the keeper for
    both sides. Since they had only one seeker, they weren't actually
    playing to win, just for fun. Fred went to score and Ron expertly
    knocked the ball right back at him. Hermione and Ginny cheered from the
    ground.
    Right about that time, though, there was a small scream. Loud
    enough, however, that even though they were up in the air, all of the
    Weasley's and Harry heard it. Quickly Harry with drew his wand, that he
    kept with him at all time, coming down to the ground for a closer look
    at the problem. Puzzled, Harry landed along side the twins, Charlie in
    front of them. Hermione was standing opposite of them, wringing her
    hands and practically dancing on tiptoes while Crookshanks fought with
    something. The only problem was, no one could see what it was. Among
    the spitting and hissing, Bill eased closer and finally found out what
    the ginger cat had been fighting.
    The enchanted apple.
    "Prior Incantato!" Bill said, aiming his wand at the apple,
    which immediately stopped bashing Crookshanks in the side of the head.
    Hermione instantly scooped up the cat, checking it over for injury as
    everyone else burst out laughing.
    "See what I mean about the pets?" Ron asked as Mrs. Weasley
    hollered across the field for them to come eat.
    Everyone started towards the house, Ron and Harry staying back to
    wait for Hermione to finish checking Crookshanks over. "My poor baby,"
    Hermione cooed, unable to stop stroking Crookshanks.
    "The cat is fine, Hermione!" Ron complained. He glanced at
    Crookshanks, who had narrowed his eyes and was giving the redhead a
    rather dirty look.
    "Your cat is staring at me funny," said Ron, gulping
    unintentionally.
    "Don't be ridiculous, Ron," Hermione snapped, placing Crookshanks
    down gently. "Now, isn't it time we go back to the house?"
    "Oh yeah... I hope Mum's not too angry in there."
    Harry picked up his broomstick and started to walk towards the
    Burrow, quickening his pace before announcing, "First one back wins!"
    Hermione and Ron chased after him until they were feet from the back
    door, where they all collapsed into a fit of laughter.
    "Well, let's go in, shall we?" asked Hermione, standing up. She
    didn't move towards the door.
    "Yes." Ron stood up as well and looked pointedly at Harry.
    Harry got off the ground and bestowed a strange look on his best
    friends. Suspiciously, he walked towards the door and turned the
    knob...
    "SURPRISE!"
    Harry about fell backwards he was so utterly amazed at the
    spectacle before him. All seven Weasleys were standing before him
    cheerily, along with Hermione... but that wasn't all. Dean Thomas,
    Neville Longbottom, and Seamus Finnigan were also there. Decorations
    littered the kitchen and living room, huge balloons and countless rolls
    of streamers gave the place a cheery atmosphere. A rather large cake
    with, "Happy Birthday Harry," on it was on the table, surrounded by
    presents. Professor Lupin was sitting at the kitchen table, sporting a
    yellow pointed birthday hat that read, "3W."
    Harry felt the urge to rip the hat off his ex-professor, right
    before it exploded into a multitude of confetti. His shock over, he
    joined in the laughter-and indignant cry of Mrs. Weasley-as the
    colorful paper started to snow down on the occupants of the room.
    After the laughter calmed down, Harry's sought for some words to
    convey his happiness. However, no words came and he ended up looking
    like a fish with no water.
    "Forgive the chap," Ron said, "he's never had a proper party
    before."
    "I mean... this is just... I can't believe..." Harry trailed off.
    "Say 'thank-you' Harry," said Dean.
    "Thank you," Harry repeated, realizing just how much he'd missed
    his dorm mates. "And Professor Lupin, is this what you meant by 'I'll
    be seeing you soon'?"
    "No, I meant to put 'very soon', but I forgot," Remus winked and
    brushed some confetti out of his hair.
    Harry laughed as he was pushed further in the room by Fred and
    George, who both looked like they were right at home in the party
    atmosphere. It would only be too soon that Harry found out why.
    Four exploding presents, a table full of real presents, cake, ice
    cream and other wizarding treats later, Dean, Neville and Seamus left
    via floo powder and Molly was cleaning up the kitchen. It seemed that
    the Weasley twins had went all out for the occasion. Several times
    things had exploded, sending fireworks, confetti and feathers
    everywhere. Neville had once again became a target of the Canary Creams
    and Percy had been slipped a Tongue Twister in his slice of cake and
    said everything backwards for ten minutes - even Mrs. Weasley had
    laughed when he began obviously telling the twins off, but only sounded
    like a babbling toddler.
    This having been a rather large party, what with there being nine
    Weasleys present, not to mention his other friends, Harry had a whole
    array of great gifts.
    Ron gave him a miniature Quidditch field that had moving
    figurines that replayed minute by minute recounts of the World Cup.
    Bill gave him an alarm clock that was a smaller version of that in the
    Weasley's kitchen, which didn't help at all if you wanted to know the
    time, but otherwise was very useful. Instead of numbers, it said things
    like "Time to Eat", "Time for Class" and "You're Late!" Seamus got him
    a Quidditch poster and Dean a soccer ball (which Harry was sure he'd
    have to explain to both Ron and Mr. Weasley).
    Fred and George had bestowed him with his own supply of 3W dug
    bombs, only their version had timers to keep the prankster from getting
    caught. Remus gave him a crystal chess set and Neville gave him a set
    of personalized parchment that read "From the Desk of Harry Potter" on
    the top. When asked about this, Neville claimed his Gran thought it
    would be a good present. Ginny had given him a bottle of ink that
    changed colors every time you dipped your quill into it, and Charlie
    gave him a book about dragons.
    Speaking of books, Harry nearly chuckled to himself at the lack
    of Percy's present sitting among his gifts. It had took all he had to
    looking convincingly interested in the book entitled "Everything You'll
    Ever Need to Know About Being the Smartest Person Ever." It hadn't,
    however, taken that much out of Hermione, who had instantly wanted to
    borrow it. Harry had let her, giving her strict instructions to take
    her time. Hermione's present was perhaps his favorite; a case to keep
    his Firebolt in that allowed no one but the owner to open it. The case
    was hex and curse resistant, as well.
    Two more owls arrived late in the afternoon, one with a present
    from Hagrid (a bag full of Honeyduke's candy) and the other with a
    wrapped package, but no name. Harry opened it away from Mr. and Mrs.
    Weasley, not sure as to it's contents, and found his invisibility
    cloak. There was no note, but Harry, Ron and Hermione knew it had to be
    from the Hogwarts Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore. He had been the one
    to give it to Harry in his first year.
    That night Harry lay, staring at his presents staked on his
    trunk, nearly not believing what a wonderful birthday this had been.
    Without a doubt, his best birthday ever.
    --End Chapter 2.
    How's this for late service, eh? It never did get to the editor, incase
    you run across something we've totally messed up ;) Dunno when the next
    chapter will be out, but rest assure it will be before book five of
    Harry Potter is out :) Though, they have FINALLY set a *real* public
    announcement date of June 21, 2003. So we still have some time before
    then to get this finished.
    Read? Like? Hate? Review! Because Fleur and I failed Divination (and
    probably spelling class, too;)
    


	3. No unpunished good deeds

~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~  
Sirius Trouble  
By: Bethany and Fleur  
Rated: PG  
Chapter 3 - No unpunished good deeds  
~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~  

    
    
    "Do you reckon," Ron began, giving Harry and Hermione a sideways
    glance, "Mum will let us go to Diagon Alley this year?"
    The three were sitting on a brick wall that separated the garden
    from the rest of the yard surrounding the Burrow. The sky was overcast,
    threatening rain at any moment. It had been a week since his birthday,
    and still Harry couldn't quite get the image of his mother out of his
    head. He idly swung his feet, glancing out over the rolling fields of
    green grass and shrugged. "Why shouldn't she?"
    Ron raised an eyebrow, much in the same fashion Hermione did when
    she thought the answer should be practically dancing in front of them.
    "Well, with You-Know-Who back to power and everything, and Sirius'
    warning about sticking close to Mum, I figured..."
    "Ron's right, Harry," Hermione said, though she looked as
    disappointed as Harry felt. It seemed a little too early to be getting
    cabin fever, but all three of them longed to get away from the Burrow,
    even for one day. Harry found himself wanting to be back at the school,
    even though he loved Ron's family. He needed that feeling of having his
    own mind and he lacked that here, when every time he turned around one
    of the Weasleys were checking up on him.
    Harry opened his mouth to say something when a movement caught
    his eye. Glancing up, he saw Hedwig soaring towards the three.
    Gracefully she landed next to Harry, a disgruntled look on her face.
    She poked her leg out, indicating for Harry to take the letter from
    her. "Must be from Sirius," Harry said as he undid the parchment. The
    handwriting on the parchment told a different story, though.
    He unrolled it, and sure enough, it was the same letter that he
    had sent to with Hedwig just after his birthday. He flipped it over
    several times, looking for anything Sirius wrote back, but there was
    nothing. "Couldn't you find him?" he asked Hedwig. The owl only stared
    back at him indignantly.
    "What's the matter?" Hermione asked, leaning over to get a better
    view of the parchment. Upon realizing that it was the same letter Harry
    had sent out, she raised her eyebrows. "But Hedwig has never failed to
    deliver a letter, has she?"
    "No," Harry mumbled, his eyes darkened in worry. Something wasn't
    right. Sirius always, no matter how short the letter, wrote him back.
    Harry jumped down off the wall, Hermione and Ron following suite. The
    three practically ran back into the house and up the stairs to Ron's
    room, ignoring Ginny as they passed.
    "Well, isn't that nice?" she said sarcastically.
    "Sorry Gin!" Hermione called back down the stairs.
    Harry slung open his trunk and shuffled around for parchment and
    a quill. Finding some, he wrote a hasty note to Remus Lupin, asking the
    whereabouts of Sirius. "Hedwig, are you up for another journey?" he
    asked his owl who had flown to the open bedroom window.
    Instead of sticking her leg out, she went over to the water bowl
    to take a drink. Harry waited patiently for her to finish. When she
    settled herself on the perch, Harry raised his eyebrow. "I guess I
    could send Pig..."
    Almost instantly Hedwig stuck her leg out, and Harry could have
    swore she was giving Ron's owl a dirty look. Harry tied the parchment
    to her leg and ran his hand down her back. "Thanks Hedwig." Hedwig
    snipped his finger affectionately and took off out the open window once
    again.
    Even though Hedwig was once again heading towards where Sirius
    should be, Harry didn't feel better. In fact, since he had opened the
    parchment minutes before, he felt like someone had dropped a load of
    iron in his stomach. His mind was abuzz with thoughts of bad things,
    such as Sirius getting caught, taken back to Azkaban, or given the
    Kiss.
    "Hey!" Ron said with forced brightness, giving a go at
    distraction. "I think Mum said something about cooking some cakes,
    wanna go see if we can snatch some before super?"
    Harry nodded, though he really didn't feel like eating. However,
    he could tell that Ron and Hermione were as nervous as he was. He
    prodded down the stairs behind them and into the kitchen where Mr.
    Weasley was sitting at the table reading the Daily Prophet and Mrs.
    Weasley was flipping through a cook book with one hand while aiming her
    wand at the mixing bowl beside her.
    "Hey Mum, could we have som-" Ron stopped short, his eyes growing
    wide. Hermione, who was standing just beside him, followed his gaze to
    land on the paper Arthur Weasley was reading.
    Mr. Weasley slammed the paper face down on the table as Harry
    came around, giving a curious glance at Ron and Hermione. "Hey kids,"
    he said with forced brightness, trying his best to hide the paper from
    Harry's searching gaze.
    "Did that just say what I think it said?" Ron walked over to his
    father, an odd look in his gaze.
    "Ron, I think it best you don't read this." Mr. Weasley looked
    torn. On the one hand he knew his son and his friends deserved the
    information he, as well as the rest of the wizarding world, now knew.
    The other hand was that of a parent who didn't want to see any of his
    children--and indeed, Harry and Hermione were just as much a part of
    his flock as any other--get hurt.
    It was Harry who made him hand over the paper. The boy just
    stared at Mr. Weasley with a knowing look in his eye, and ever so
    slowly, Arthur handed him the paper. Hermione took the paper from
    Harry, and in a shaky voice began to read:
    _Sirius Black: Murderer Once More
     By Lucinda Kent
    It was with a sad heart that this reporter witnessed
    first hand horrible destruction wrought by none other
    than the infamous Sirius Black. Yesterday evening, at
    nine o'clock in the evening, the Dark Mark hovered over
    a small country cottage, surrounded by marigolds and
    lilies. However, inside what should have been a safe
    haven, the body of Richard Marsley (34), and his wife
    Abigail (30) lay dead beside the body of their four year
    old, Emily Marsley. The crime was linked to Black when an
    eyewitness spotted him at the Godric's Hollow Cemetery,
    where the bodies of none other than James and Lily Potter
    lay buried, only forty-five minutes beforehand. "I heard a
    horrible scream, and then a figure ran into the house. I
    tried to go there myself, but it was too late. By the time
    I got there…they were…" Winifred Lakely, a neighbor of the
    victims, reports.
    
    The cemetery, which was only half of a mile from the crime
    scene, was not harmed by Black, but this brings no comfort
    to the grieving friends and family of the Marsleys. Prime
    Minister Fudge has promised to do all in his power to
    apprehend the criminal, however, the people of Britain can
    only hope that he makes better on this promise than he did
    two years ago. Rumors have arisen that, in fact, the murder
    was not by the hand of Black, but by You-Know-Who himself,
    a prospect that has stricken fear into the hearts of many.
    
    Services will be held at…_
    
    Harry let out a breath he'd been holding, realizing that he had
    stopped breathing some time ago. "Oh my God..." Hermione had her hand
    to her mouth and was looking horror stricken, whether because of the
    accusations placed upon Sirius or the awful story she had read, Harry
    did not know.
    "Sirius didn't do this!" Harry said, defending his godfather.
    "We know that, you git. Nobody ever doubted _that_, it's
    just... well, this is the first child he's killed all summer." Ron kept
    staring at the picture of the Dark Mark that was hovering in the
    picturesque night sky.
    Nobody realized Ginny was in the room until her voice broke
    through silence, commenting, "It seems the Death Eaters have abandoned
    any humanity they gained in You-Kn- Voldemort's," Ginny corrected,
    "absence."
    "Don't say his name!"
    Arthur Weasley sighed and stood up. "Don't correct your sister,
    Ron. If she's brave enough to say it, nobody should stop her." Ron
    nodded, resigned.
    "But what about Sirius... if they catch him he's worse than
    dead." Hermione put her hand on Harry's shoulder, who hadn't said
    anything since his original outburst.
    "He was at their graves... he must have seen the Dark Mark and
    ran in to fight them," Harry whispered. "What if they captured him,
    what if-"
    "Stop it, Harry! Don't even talk like that, Sirius if _fine
    _." Ginny had taken over stirring the bowl for her mother, who was
    sitting down on a spare chair, hands massaging her temples.
    "Ginny's right, Harry. Just because you didn't get a letter back,
    that doesn't make anything for certain. Perhaps Sirius is hiding, and
    he just didn't want anybody to intercept Hedwig's flight." Hermione
    tried to comfort her friend.
    "Or perhaps he's captured, and we are sitting around doing
    nothing," Harry retorted, his eyes wide in exclamation.
    "There's nothing you can do, Harry," Mr. Weasley suddenly said in
    a stern voice that Harry had never heard him use before. "I know what
    you're thinking, and it won't happen. Sirius is a fully grown wizard
    and can take care of himself. He brought you here so you would be safe,
    and I intend to keep you that way."
    Harry opened his mouth to reply but Ron jabbed him in his side.
    The words died on his lips, but they weren't cast from his head as
    quickly. Harry nodded and walked out of the room, climbing the
    staircase two at a time. Ron, throwing a helpless look towards
    Hermione, followed at his heels.
    Harry got off his Firebolt and sat down on the ground, resting
    his arms on his bent knees. He had taken off out Ron's window, letting
    no one know where he was headed; One rule broken. He was at least a
    mile away from the Burrow; Two rules broken. And he had snapped at
    Ginny, and while he wasn't sure about his feelings towards her, he
    couldn't help but notice the flash of pain that crossed her features.
    It just wasn't his day.
    "Why is my life such a bloody mess?" he mumbled to himself.
    When one is sitting in the middle of a dense patch of trees,
    presumably alone, you hardly expect an answer. So when a voice said,
    "Tell me about it," Harry started almost violently.
    "How'd you know where I was?" Harry asked, looking up at Ron as
    he made his way through the bushes that surrounded the little area
    Harry sat in. Ron had to literally crouch down to get past a couple of
    low branches.
    He shrugged, sitting next to Harry. "I know you."
    "You'd be safer if you didn't."
    "You make my life interesting."
    "And possibly shorter," Harry pointed out angrily.
    "We're all going to die one day." Harry doubted Ron would be this
    smooth if he wasn't sitting in the sunshine, in no present danger. Had
    they been in the forbidden forest, chasing (or running from, whatever
    the case may be)giant spiders, Ron may have had something different to
    say.
    "Whatever," Harry mumbled in response, picking up a twig and
    breaking it in half. "Look what it's done to Sirius. He would be on
    some tropical island right now..."
    Ron gave him a stern side-ways glance. "Right. I can't see him
    not fighting You-Know-Who, Harry. Didn't he fight him to begin with?"
    "And Cedric--" Harry pushed the name from his lips, though it
    hurt badly. "Look what knowing me got him. Can't you see? That's what
    is going to happen to you and Hermione..."
    "It could happen anyways, Harry," another voice injected into the
    conversation. Hermione had obviously followed the broken twigs though
    the brush to get to them, for she came out exactly where Ron had. "I'm
    certainly not going to sit around doing nothing while he takes over.
    And I know Ron isn't, so that makes us his enemies." She flopped down
    on the grass on Harry's other side.
    "You can't tell me that you haven't been in more danger--" Harry
    began, but Ron cut him off short.
    "Stop being dense, Harry."
    Hermione nodded. "We're not going anywhere. Friends don't do
    that."
    Silence followed her statement, since Harry really didn't know
    what to say to that. He felt warm inside, knowing he had such good
    friends, but that warmth was sitting right alongside fear. Fear that
    their very lives were in danger. Like Sirius... that thought wasn't any
    better than the last. "I hope he's ok."
    Neither Ron or Hermione asked who he was talking about, both
    already knew. They also knew that it was his worry for his Godfather
    that was making Harry so irritable. "I got an idea," Hermione suddenly
    said, throwing down the twig she had in her hand.
    "Well, tell us already," Ron urged.
    "We could write to Dumbledore, I'm sure he knows where Sirius
    is!"
    "Hermione," Harry said in an exasperated tone. "We can't just go
    running to the Headmaster of Hogwarts every time we have a little
    problem. I'm sure he's plenty busy with Voldemort coming back."
    "Don't say his name," Ron said automatically.
    "Voldemort! Voldemort! Voldemort!" Harry repeated, jumping to his
    feet. "I've meet him and I'm going to call him by his proper name! All
    this 'You-Know-Who' stuff, it's stupid!"
    "Yeah?" Ron said, also rising to his feet. Hermione's eyes were
    wide. "Well, some of us grew up scared of him! Are still scared of
    him!"
    "Me too!" Harry said, equally as loud as Ron. "But you hear me
    saying his name!"
    "Big deal!" Ron replied hotly.
    "If you're going to be my friend, you'll probably meet him face
    to face! How can you have the courage to do that when you don't even
    have the courage to say his name properly?!"
    All the while Hermione stood aside, saying nothing, but watching
    with nervous eyes. Every time one of them spoke, the other grew louder.
    Any minute she expected one of them to hex the other, underage wizard
    or not.
    "REALLY?" Ron screamed, his fists clinched at his sides, his face
    in Harry's.
    "REALLY!" Harry screamed back.
    "VOLDEMORT! THERE! SEE?!"
    Ron suddenly stepped back, his eyes wide and the tips of his ears
    as red as his hair. Harry's mouth was open, and moving, but no sound
    was coming out. Hermione stared.
    And then suddenly both Ron and Harry burst out laughing. They
    laughed so hard that they were nearly doubled over, clutching their
    sides. "You... bloody... git..." Harry gasped, wiping a tear from his
    eye.
    "You... too..." Ron replied, trying to compose himself. He
    slapped Harry on the back, jerking his head towards the house. "I'm
    hungry, you want something to eat?"
    "Sure," Harry replied, grabbing his Firebolt and putting it over
    his shoulder.
    They started through the woods, Hermione following them. "Sure
    glad we got _that_ cleared up," she mumbled, shaking her head.
    Remus Lupin slowly descended the stairs to his small two story
    cottage and headed for the kitchen. It was a pointless task, but as it
    was habit, he opened the door to the fridge. Just like every other time
    he had opened it this week, it was empty save for half a bottle of
    soured milk, a bowl of dried potatoes that had started shrinking in
    proportion and mustard. Remus closed the door, opened it again, and
    noted with a strange smile that the contents had not changed.
    He ran his hand through his graying brown hair and sighed,
    looking around. Sirius didn't tend to leave much in the way of food
    around. He also wasn't much for cleaning, Remus noted, flicking his
    wand in the direction of the sink and causing the dishes to start
    cleaning themselves.
    Speaking of Sirius, Remus noted that the giant black dog wasn't
    sprawled in front of the fireplace as per normal. The door that lead
    from the kitchen to the yard in back was unlocked, and Remus assumed he
    was feeding Buckbeak. What, he wasn't sure, as Remus himself sure
    couldn't find anything edible.
    A large brown owl pecked on the door window, his talons around a
    copy of the Daily Prophet. Remus opened the door, giving a glance
    around outside as the owl came in to deposit the paper. Remus put the
    proper amount of bronze knuts in the sack attached to it's leg and
    watched it fly off again, noting that the backyard seemed empty. How
    strange.
    Again, brushing it off, Remus made himself a cup of tea and sat
    down in one of the worn kitchen chairs. He brought the cup up to his
    lips as he opened the Daily Prophet, but never got the first sip.
    Instead there was a tinkling of breaking china as he stared at the
    headline.
    "Sirius Black: Murder Once More," Remus read aloud, just to be
    sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. Plastered across the front
    page was a picture of the dark mark hanging in the sky. There was a
    trickle of dread that shot down Remus' spine as he stood up abruptly.
    Where the *hell* was Sirius, anyway?
    Remus hurried to the back of the house, looking in the shed he
    used once a month to transform. Buckbeak was there, and alone. Remus
    felt his normally calm state leave him. He hurried back in the house,
    glancing in the living room once more. It was then his acute hearing
    caught a creak of a floorboard coming from upstairs. Wand drawn, he
    softly ascended the steps.
    There was no one in the hall, but Remus was sure he had heard
    something, and used caution when entering his bedroom. Indeed there was
    someone there, and Remus nearly breathed a sigh of relief from it.
    "Sirius, where the hell have you been?"
    His tall friend no longer wore the same robes he had upon leaving
    Azkaban, but a slightly worn set that Remus had picked up in a second
    hand shop just a week earlier. His dark eyes were wild looking as they
    turned to Remus and his hair looked as if he had ran his fingers threw
    it in frustration more than once. "We have to get out of here," Sirius
    said darkly, fingering the wand that Dumbledore had given him for
    emergencies only. "Now."
    "What?" Remus replied, confused as Sirius went past him and down
    the steps. "Sirius, what happened? Did you see the Daily Prophet?"
    "Unfortunately. It goes to show that no good deed goes
    unpunished," Sirius mumbled, gathering together the letters he had
    received from Harry and other belongings that he really didn't need
    found at Remus' house. "I may have been followed, there's no time to
    discuss this in dept. Arabella is expecting you."
    "Arabella?" Remus repeated, going slightly pale. "Arabella Figg?"
    Sirius, satisfied that he had gathered everything that may be
    linked back to him, started for the door. "Yes, Arabella Figg. You can
    Floo to her house. She knows to cut off her house from the network as
    soon as you arrive. She can explain more when you get there."
    "Followed?" Remus repeated, ignoring all Sirius said about
    Arabella Figg. "What are you going on about?"
    "Just do as I say, please Moony," Sirius said, a little more
    loudly than he had intended and reverting back to the childhood name.
    "I've caused you enough problems in the past, I'm trying to stop this
    one before it starts."
    "Siru--" Remus stopped, seeing the graveness set in his friends
    face. "If you need.."
    "I know." Sirius suddenly pulled Remus into a short hug and then
    fled out the backdoor towards the shed where Buckbeak was. When he
    returned Remus had gone, a lingering green fire was still ignited.
    Sirius pointed his wand at the fireplace, muttered something and there
    was a loud spark as it was disconnected from the Floo Network.
    Remus nearly fell out of the fireplace at Arabella Figg's house.
    He caught his footing, ducked to miss his head connecting with the
    brick wall and climbed out. There was a distinct smell of boiled
    cabbage and cats that hit his nose and Remus couldn't ward off the
    smile that threatened his lips before he caught it. Some memories were
    better left in the past, he thought as a woman stepped out of the
    kitchen and into the living room.
    Like Remus, she appeared slightly older than he knew her to be.
    In fact, he knew she was only thirty-seven years old. She had a few
    scattered grays in otherwise blonde hair, but was as beautiful as Remus
    remembered her. Shaking his head slightly to shake away soot from the
    fire, as well as where his last thought might take him, Remus gave a
    small smile. "Bella," he greeted.
    "Remus," she replied, studying him like one might an insect under
    a magnifying glass. She gave him a strained smile. "You look good."
    "You look beautiful," he replied automatically before catching
    himself. He tried to laugh it off. "I guess some things never change?"
    It was a rhetorical question at best, he hardly had hopes they could
    carry on a conversation without awkward and emotional tension. After
    all, they had been engaged.
    And he had left her.
    A point that had made it to the top of things in his life he
    regretted. Right up there with Lily and James. He repressed a shutter,
    removing his gaze from Arabella to the living room in which he stood.
    When he found nothing more interesting than muggle photographs of her
    various cats, his gaze fell once more on her. "Any idea as to what I'm
    doing here?" he asked.
    "Not because you wanted to see me, I can assure you," she replied
    and turned heel. Remus visibly winced. That hurt, bad. In a way it was
    nice to see she still had retained the same fiery temper she had as a
    teenager.
    Remus followed her into the kitchen. Arabella was standing at the
    sink, pointing her wand at a pile of dishes as she fished through her
    refrigerator. Good to know that she had more in hers than Remus had in
    his. Without turning around, she nodded to a table to his left. "Sit
    down. I'll make you something to eat. Merlin knows you look like you
    could use it."
    Remus smiled slightly, and sat as commanded. In three years of
    dating her and nine years of knowing her, Remus knew better than to
    open his mouth when she had that commanding tone. A wise man chose his
    battles carefully, and Remus considered himself somewhat wise. As
    though why he never came crawling back to her so many years ago--well,
    we can't all be perfect.
    In less time that it would have taken for him and Sirius to burn
    together what resembled food, Arabella had sat a plate of meatloaf,
    mashed potatoes, corn and a roll before Remus. He picked up the fork
    and started to take a bite when he noticed his hand slightly burning.
    It was a silver fork.
    He dropped it, instinct fully pulling his hand back and cradling
    it. It took all he had not to mumble a good "ouch" at the least, and a
    mild string of profanity for his stupidity, at the most. Arabella
    snapped her head around, her eyes huge. "Oh Remus, I'm sorry," she
    mumbled, reaching for the silver fork to throw it in the sink. "I
    forgot."
    "It's ok," Remus lied, feeling his heart begin pumping at an
    abnormal pace as she drew nearer. "I'm fine."
    She reached for his hand despite his protests and stomped an
    angry foot when he held his hand from her reach. "Let me see!" she
    insisted, reaching once more for his injured hand. Reluctantly he
    allowed her to see. With a flash of her wand, it was healed on the
    surface and only burned slightly beneath.
    "Thank you," he mumbled when she didn't let go of his hand. She
    dropped it, turning on her heel. A second later she returned with a
    plastic fork and handed it to him.
    The door bell rang, causing Arabella to look up in alarm. Remus
    followed her curiously as she went into the living room and looked out
    the peek hole. Her face lost it's color. "Remus--" she began, but he
    was a step ahead of her.
    "Don't worry."
    He watched as she took a gulp of some potion in a glass near the
    sink. In seconds he realized it to be Polyjuice potion, the effects now
    adding about fifty muggle years to her. Surely that would explain the
    boiled cabbage smell as he entered her house. She grabbed a cane that
    was leaning against the wall and opened the door slowly, peeking out
    without fully opening it. "Petunia?" she mumbled.
    Remus felt his mouth fall open as he stood just on the other side
    of the wall, listening. Petunia? As in, Petunia Evans, or rather
    Dursley? Lily's sister? What was she doing here?
    "Yes, Mrs. Figg. I'm terribly sorry to disturb you, but I
    wondered if I could have a moment?"
    Arabella seemed lightly agitated by this, but allowed her into
    the living room anyway. Remus sneaked a peek around the corner and saw
    indeed it was Lily's sister. She looked as horse faced and bony has she
    had the last time he had saw her. Arabella followed Petunia in the
    living room, giving a nervous look around as if looking for Remus.
    Satisfied when she didn't spot him, she sat across from Petunia.
    "What brings you here? Do you need me to watch Harry for
    something?"
    "Eh-no, actually," Petunia replied, looking more nervous by the
    moment. "But I did come to talk to you about Harry. He's--he's gone
    missing," she said, trying to come off as upset. She wasn't making a
    good show of it. "I wondered if you had seen him?"
    "Missing?" Arabella repeated, sounding older than he knew her to
    be. "How long he been gone that you're just now asking about him?"
    Petunia looked paler still. "A-a day or so." She looked at her
    clasped hands, swallowing. Remus could practically smell the fear from
    her. "Actually, Mrs. Figg, it's not exactly like that."
    "I imagined as much," Arabella replied shortly.
    "He--he--" And suddenly, and very unexplainably, Petunia burst
    into tears. She wept for a long while, her hands buried in her face,
    before looking up at Arabella again. "I'm sorry. But I don't know what
    to do. If anyone were to ask of him, what can I say? That forsaken
    godfather of his took him and..."
    "I doubt very much that Sirius had to force Harry to go, as you
    suggest, Petunia," Arabella said seriously, her voice sounding much more
    like her normal self rather than the elderly lady she had fashioned
    herself to be. "And you can stop worrying about what will happen to
    you, since I know you're too selfish to care what happens to Harry. I
    can assure you he is in good hands and no one need come to you about
    it."
    Petunia looked like she had just watched someone being sick. Her
    face had an odd sort of look on it as she stared at Arabella. Remus, no
    longer believing his presence needed to be hidden, stepped into the
    living room. He thought the other woman just might faint.
    "You!" she seethed, getting up abruptly.
    "It's so nice to see you, too, Petunia," Remus replied, his arms
    crossed casually over his chest. "It's been what, fourteen years now
    since Lily's funeral? I had so hoped to never lay eyes on you again."
    "Wh--What are you doing here?" she asked, looking to Arabella.
    Remus gave her a second glance as well, for her Polyjuice potion seemed
    to be wearing off a little prematurely. When her own face stared back
    at Petunia, the latter screeched like a dying animal. "And... oh my
    God!" she shrieked, jumping to her feet. "You! I know you!"
    "You certainly do, love," Arabella said sarcastically. "You
    should, I spent nearly an entire summer at your house with Lily. Pity
    some of my more intelligent pranks were so lost on you that you thought
    I was trying to kill you." She smirked. "Had I wanted to cause you
    harm, I wouldn't have been so subtle."
    Remus couldn't help the smile tugging at his lips. "She's right
    about that."
    Petunia sank back into the chair, looking no better than having
    just been hexed. "All these years, we sent Harry over here... and you
    were friends with..." She stopped, tilting her head and looking
    curious. "Why didn't you tell him? You had plenty of opportunity."
    "Tell him what, Petunia? How his parents died? How Voldemort
    killed them, and then tried to kill him? How he was a wizard? Exactly
    what would you be referring to?"
    Remus had the urge to put his arm around Arabella to restrain
    her, but felt she really needed to get this off her chest. He couldn't
    imagine what it had been like, seeing her best friend's son for eleven
    years, and yet not being able to comfort him in the least. Let him know
    anything about who he was, or what wonderful people his parents had
    been. It had been hard enough for him just while teaching at Hogwarts
    for a year.
    "Everything," Petunia replied. "You knew Lily and whatever it was
    she done at that place she went to. You knew all about those... bloody
    mad people!" she spat, standing again. Remus had half a mind to tell
    Petunia that Arabella, or at least the one he knew, wasn't exactly
    someone you wanted to get in the face of.
    Then he thought better of it.
    Instead he leaned against the wall, watching the scene before him
    with something akin to amusement. Arabella seemed to swell with anger.
    "Get out of my house," she whispered, which was nearly as bad as if her
    voice had shook the walls. Petunia glanced down at the wand in
    Arabella's hand and fled towards the door. "I hear one more word from
    your lips, Petunia, about Lily, James, or her son, and I swear to lay
    the nastiest curse I know on your home."
    Panic ridden, Petunia took one last look at Remus, then to
    Arabella, before fleeing down the sidewalk. Remus quietly went to the
    door, shutting it and placing a locking charm on it before turning
    around.
    Arabella was slouched in her chair, her eyes filled to the brim
    with tears. When she noticed Remus watching her, she tried to smile,
    but only managed a weak one before her tears spilled forth. "Does it
    still hurt?" she mumbled, wiping her face. "When you think of them?
    Like a knife stabbing in your heart?"
    "Yes," Remus replied quietly, still standing next to the door.
    Arabella wiped her face, looking at the floor. "I miss Lily
    everyday. She was the only true friend I ever had. I lost her, and then
    you, all in the course of a week."
    Remus flinched noticeably, going over to sit on the couch and
    stare hard at his hands. She had lost so much, but so had he. He had
    lost James, Peter and Sirius to Voldemort in one way or another in one
    fatal night, Lily and then Harry -- he lost a bit of his sanity that
    week when he watched his best friend lowered into the ground. Never to
    laugh again, to play pranks, to be the loving husband, perfect father
    and best friend.
    He lost Arabella when he lost touch with reality. He fled from
    her, as he fled from the memories of the life he had and lost so
    quickly.
    Only to come full circle, it seemed.
    "Why Remus?" Arabella suddenly whispered, looking at him through
    a haze of tear filled red eyes. "Why did you leave?"
    Remus was saved from answering by the sound of a beak tapping on
    glass. Both of them looked to the living room window to find a snowy
    white owl tapping incessantly on the pane. "Hedwig?" Remus mumbled,
    getting to his feet.
    "Who?" Arabella asked, also following him as he let the owl in
    the front door.
    "Harry's owl," he replied, taking the parchment from Hedwig's
    leg. She hooted gratefully, landing on the back of the couch and
    looking exhausted. He unrolled the parchment and read aloud:
    _Remus-
    Do you know where Sirius is? I sent a letter to him by Hedwig just
    after my birthday, and she returned it to me a week later. Sirius
    always writes back, no matter what. I'm afraid something bad as
    happened. Please tell me he is with you, or at least safe.
    -Harry_
    Remus re-read the letter to himself, and then glanced at Arabella
    expectantly. Her hands twisted in a nervous fashion before her as she
    made her way back to the chair by the fire, sitting down softly.
    "Bella, what's going on?" Remus asked urgently, but in a soft
    voice.
    She shook her head, another tear falling down her face that she
    wiped at in vain. "It's happening all over again, Remus. All of it.
    He's... he's getting stronger. There has been killings, muggle
    disappearances..."
    "Who followed Sirius?" Remus pressed on.
    "They did," she whispered, her pale blue eyes finding and holding
    Remus' gaze. "The Death Eaters, at the Marsley's. He was at Godric
    Hollow Cemetery and seen the dark mark. I don't know what possessed him
    to go in, armed with only a wand that doesn't even suite him properly.
    Merlin, who ever knows what gets into Sirius when he does stupid
    things? He went in and dueled... barely escaped alive. But he heard
    them talking before they left, that they knew he'd be at your house."
    She took a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly. "He Flooed in, told
    me what happened, and to expect you shortly. That's all I know."
    Remus sat back, cursing slightly under his breath. What had
    Sirius been thinking? Does he think? To walk into a house full of Death
    Eaters and duel? It was stupid ness like that that could get him
    killed.
    It was stupid ness like that that had also made him one of the
    best Aurors the Ministry had fifteen years ago.
    "What do I tell Harry?" Remus mumbled, more to himself than to
    Arabella.
    He watched Arabella stand up, returning to the kitchen where they
    could still hear the gentle clicking of the dishes in the sink. "It's
    up to you, Remus. But Harry is fifteen years old now and he's fought
    Voldemort more than once. I think he deserves the truth."
    "And if he runs off looking for Sirius?" Remus retorted.
    "Wouldn't he anyway?"
    That wasn't exactly the answer Remus had in mind.
    --End Chapter 3.
    *takes a vote of how many people have forgotten we are even writing
    this story and notes that only two people are in the room* Incidently,
    that is probably Fleur and myself, huh?
    We are VERY sorry about how long it took to get this chapter out.
    Really, really! I promise that the next chapter will not take no where
    near this long. I really hope that maybe more than four people will
    read it---though we love our four reviews to death! Yes we do! :D (even
    though that first review was kinda odd...) But none the less ^-^
    So what do you all think about the Arabella thing? I had ran across a
    story that had Remus and Arabella together and I LOVE that story so
    much! (it's called Pensieve, btw, by Oy Angelina -- very excellant
    reading!)And then I ran across the theory of the polyjuice potion on
    Mugglenet.com because they had connected that Arabella's house always
    spelled like boiled cabbages and then later said that the polyjuice
    potion spelled like boiled cabbages. Their theory was that Arabella was
    taking polyjuice potion, and I liked that idea and ran with it. Note,
    though, that I just told you where I got the idea, and gave
    Mugglenet.com credit, so don't email me cussing me out. I don't claim
    rights to it, I just borrowed it.
    By the way, same thing with Harry Potter and all related characters:
    Fleur and I do not own, but we borrow, and put a disclaimer here so
    that we don't get in trouble ^^;;
    If you read, please direct all thoughts, suggestions and such to the
    review section for this story by clicking on the drop down box below.
    The deadline for complicants, flames, gripes or other such musings was
    yesterday.
    


	4. Realizations and Memories

~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~  
Sirius Trouble  
By: Bethany and Fleur  
Rated: PG  
Chapter 4 - Realizations and Memories  
~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~  

    
    
    A swirling mist covered the grounds of the Burrow the morning of
    August 9th. The clock beside Ron's bed read six eighteen a.m. when
    Harry jolted awake, sitting straight up in bed, breathing hard. Eyes
    wide, it took a moment for him to realize where he was. Upon
    remembering, he buried his face in his hands, rubbing his palms across
    his face vigorously, stopping to trace the lightening bolt shaped scar
    on his forehead that was burning slightly.
    His burning scar was bad enough, but he also had the remainders
    of a nightmare lingering in his sleep-congested brain. Groaning, he
    reached for his glasses, placing them on his face so that the room
    could come into clearer focus. Just beyond the horizon the sky was
    turning a pale pink, making a lovely picture as the sun slowly made its
    way up.
    While Harry was quite used to dreams, especially ones of
    Voldemort, it still caused a cold sweat to break out on his face. Even
    worse, this dream had been different than the many preceding it; yet
    the same one he had the night before. In it, Voldemort had lured Sirius
    into a trap, putting his godfather at terrible risk. As much as Harry
    wanted to believe that Sirius was in no present danger, the lack of
    information from Remus was unsettling. Hermione insisted that surely
    Remus was busy, and that was why he hadn't responded to Harry's letter.
    But to Harry it was just another piece of a larger puzzle that all
    pointed to his godfather being in trouble.
    Harry quietly pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill,
    careful not to wake Ron up as he scribbled what he could remember of
    his dream. There had been a cemetery, and a house near by with a Dark
    Mark hovering above it. The scene had quickly changed to that of a duel
    between Sirius and three men in black hooded robes: Death Eaters. One
    of them was a short man with a metal hand where a real one should have
    been, a wizard by the name of Peter Pettigrew. Harry still felt a
    boiling hate erupt in his chest at the thought. They had captured
    Sirius.
    And then the scene changed a final time, and Harry found himself
    alone at the end of a corridor. His heart pounding madly, he brought
    his wand out and whispered, "_Lumos!_" At the end of the tunnel
    was a room, and while Harry had yet to get to it before waking up, the
    fear he felt in his body and mind was enough to make him shiver.
    Harry glanced down at the parchment in his hand, scanning the
    writing to see if anything else would come to him. It didn't. Instead
    he started trying to piece together a time line that might help him to
    find Sirius.
    July 30th: Sirius showed up at the Dursley's to rescue him and
    then left to join back up with Remus.
    July 31st: Remus says that Sirius came back to his house safely,
    then sends the letter containing the box his mother had made.
    August 1st: Letter to Sirius is sent but returned seven days
    later...
    August 8th: The newspaper clipping placing Sirius in Godric's
    Hollow the night before arrives.
    Harry leaned back, staring at the stretched time line. It made no
    sense; up until August 8th, everything seemed almost…normal. It was
    then that the nightmares began, it was then that Hedwig had returned
    with his letter, it was then he had sent a letter to Remus to which he
    still had no reply.
    Frustrated, Harry let go of the parchment and it sprang back into
    a light roll. Throwing it in his trunk with his quill, he got to his
    feet and looked out the window. The sky was a variety of pastel colors
    now, none of which looked right to Harry. Shouldn't it be dark and
    foreboding? Shouldn't the weather mirror how he felt? It would feel
    more appropriate for it to be pouring rain with the occasional crack of
    thunder rolling across the land.
    Ron gave a loud snore, turned over, and buried his face deeper in
    his covers. For a moment Harry felt a pang of envy; obviously Ron had
    no nightmares of Voldemort to keep him awake at night. Climbing over
    the cot that he slept on, Harry quietly opened the door and went into
    the hall beyond, leaving Ron to sleep.
    He crept down the stairs, pushing his fingers through his hair
    distractedly as he descended the many steps. As he walked pictures
    smiled or waved at him, though many only snored lightly. He ignored
    them all, thinking only of his nightmare. Perhaps he was thinking a
    little too hard, for it wasn't long before he felt a body collide with
    his own.
    "Ow!" a small voice said from under him.
    Harry backed up, rubbing his chest and adjusting his glasses. He
    had knocked head long into Ginny, who was giving him a strange look.
    "Harry," she said finally, "what's wrong?"
    Harry stared at her a minute before he suddenly realized that it
    must have been her chin, or forehead, that hit his chest. "Sorry for-
    um, running into you," he said dumbly, not sure if he wanted to answer
    her question.
    He had to give it to her, she looked a lot like her mother in
    that next second with her hands on her hips and her brown eyes boring
    into his green ones. "What's wrong?" she repeated, this time more
    firmly.
    Harry slowly brought his hand down from his chest, unable to
    break away the eye contact he had with the youngest Weasley. He opened
    his mouth but nothing came out, making him look a lot like a fish out
    of water. Giving up, he closed it. Ginny sighed, finally breaking the
    stare. "Never mind, you don't have to say. I know there's tons I don't
    know about, I can just add this to the list, hmm?"
    Harry bit his bottom lip, still unable to find words that didn't
    sound extremely stupid. And then suddenly, as if a dam had broken in
    his mind, he grabbed her arm and lead her down the rest of the stairs
    and into the kitchen.
    They sat at the table, Harry sitting across from Ginny, the
    latter looking quite startled at the abrupt change in her companion's
    attitude. She gave him a puzzled look, but said nothing. Finally Harry
    managed to find his voice…the problem was, only when he started, he
    found he couldn't quite stop. He began with; "In third year.." And told
    her everything, from Professor Lupin being a werewolf, to his father
    being an animagus, to Sirius breaking out of Azkaban to get to the not-
    quite-dead Peter. He went on to explain about the tasks, Barty Crouch
    Jr., his guilt about Cedric Diggory, and then the dreams he had been
    having about Sirius. Finally he ended, nearly a half hour later, by
    banging his head on the scrubbed wooden table.
    A ringing silence followed his story, in which time Harry found
    he couldn't quite catch his breath properly. A voice in the back of his
    mind was asking him if hadn't just done something incredibly daft, and
    Harry couldn't help but agree. He waited for Ginny to say something -
    anything - but all was silent. Finally he gathered his courage and
    looked up. What he saw startled him.
    Ginny was crying.
    A few tears had slipped down her cheek that she wiped at when he
    glanced up at her. Biting her bottom lip, she reached out and gripped
    Harry's arm firmly. "Oh Merlin, Harry...I-I didn't even think..."
    "That was the idea," Harry said lamely, shaking his head. "Not
    many people know what happened from then on. And--" Harry stopped,
    eyebrows knitted in confusion. "I can't believe I just told you
    everything and it didn't seem to bother me at all." When Ginny gave him
    a look of pure puzzlement, he continued. "I could barely get that all
    out when I told Dumbledore."
    Ginny flushed slightly, but held his gaze. And oddly, a sense of
    comfort blanketed Harry. It was much like the feeling that he had on
    his birthday. He was struck by a sudden thought. "Ginny, did you--on my
    birthday, that is, did you see...?"
    Ginny nodded, chewing on her bottom lip once more. "I'm sorry
    Harry. I didn't mean to, but I heard someone talking and peeked in--"
    She gripped his arm a bit tighter. "That was your Mum?"
    "Yeah," Harry replied, thinking back to the small wooden box in
    his truck. "That was her." He shook his head, as if trying to clear
    away the thought by doing so, and once more found his gaze penetrating
    Ginny's. "Thank you."
    There was a rumble from above then that sounded suspiciously like
    a heard of elephants-or Weasleys- descending the stairs. Ginny's eyes
    flickered up and she stood, leaning her head towards Harry's.
    "Anytime," she whispered before planting her soft lips on his forehead.
    Harry closed his eyes briefly as she lingered there, then pulled away.
    When he opened his eyes, she was gone.
    **
    After breakfast Harry, Ron and Hermione once again took up their
    post at the garden wall overlooking the Burrow. Harry told them an
    abbreviated story of what happened, skipping over the part of bumping
    into Ginny, telling Ginny everything, and the kiss that Ginny gave him.
    He didn't quite think Ron would be the right person to tell that to,
    especially the fact that he liked it.
    Instead he waited with baited breath for their reactions. They
    were very similar to what he had pictured in his mind. Ron looked
    downright scared about his scar hurting, and Hermione had whispered "Oh
    no, Sirius! But your dreams Harry..." and clasped her hands over her
    mouth.
    "Come true? Are real?" Harry supplied helpfully. Ron nearly
    toppled off the wall.
    "We have to do something!" Ron said after he had regained his
    balance. He'd put on brave face that was lined with determination. "Did
    you hear back from Remus yet?"
    "No," Harry mumbled, shoulders sagging.
    "Don't be dense, Ron," Hermione said, as if she hadn't heard his
    last question. "We can't do anything. We've been lucky so far, I don't
    think we should test it again. We have to tell--"
    "Who?" Ron said testily, looking rather irritable that Hermione
    hadn't stood up and yelled 'CHARGE!' as if she was leading them into
    battle. "We tell my Mum and she won't let us out of her sight until
    we're legal. If we tell Dad we'll get a lecture on letting grown up
    wizards and witches take care of it. And no, Hermione," Ron said
    suddenly, giving her an intense glare. "We aren't going straight to
    Dumbledore."
    "What we need," Harry interjected, more to stop the oncoming
    battle than anything else, "is more information. I wrote out a time
    line, trying to figure out what's going on. But without a reply from
    Remus, it's--"
    "Hopeless," Ron completed.
    Hermione looked thoughtful. Harry hoped she was coming up with a
    good plan, he couldn't take much more of not knowing.
    "Look, if we don't hear back from Remus in the next couple of
    days, we'll--"
    Both Ron and Harry were looking at Hermione, expecting something
    great. She sagged her shoulders. "I don't know, I just don't. But we
    can't go running off to Remus' to ask him."
    But as they lapsed into silence, Harry couldn't help thinking
    that should be exactly what they do.
    **
    Remus awoke rather early and lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.
    The room at Arabella's, in which he was now taking refuge, was small,
    but rather cozy. It was decorated in light, cheerful colors, with a
    lightly stained wardrobe on the wall opposite of the bed. The hand
    knitted blanket laying over him was a variety of colors, but he
    remembered fondly that Arabella always liked odd things.
    In fact, remembering things about Arabella had been about all he
    could do when he wasn't in her presence. He was flooded with things
    that he had repressed, flashes of memories that were best forgotten.
    ***_
    "Shhhhhh!" Arabella giggled as she made the noise, trying to
    glare at her boyfriend for being entirely too loud. "We're going to get
    caught, you prat!"
    "Might be worth it," Remus said mildly, grabbing her by the waist
    and bringing her to him. He tried to put his lips on hers, but she
    moved out of his reach and scrambled up the remaining steps that lead
    to Gryffindor tower.
    Remus, smiling to himself, followed closely at her heels. By the
    time he had reached the landing, she already had the portrait open and
    Remus tried not to look too guilty as the Fat Lady eyed him.
    Arabella was waiting on the other side, her curls bouncing
    slightly as she looked around at the empty room quickly. Remus grabbed
    her yet again, and this time she didn't protest. Instead she latched
    her arms around his neck securely as he brought his lips to hers.
    And they could have stayed that way for a while, except for the
    giggling that was coming from near the fire place. Both ignored it,
    until it got slightly louder and was soon followed by "James, quit
    it!" in the unmistakable voice of Lily Evans.
    A smile on his lips, Remus broke their kiss and glanced over his
    frowning girlfriend's shoulder to see a flash of red hair. "Oooh,
    ignore them," Arabella said sulkily, trying to get his attention again.
    But it was too late, he was heading further into the room.
    She tugged on his arm, and he turned, giving her a lopsided smile
    and bringing his wand out. "Just a second, love," he said and tiptoed
    up behind the unsuspecting couple.
    "Potter! Evans! What do you think you're doing?!" Remus bellowed
    in a voice that sounded so much like McGonagall that even Arabella was
    looking around in astonishment.
    James leapt off the sofa, followed quickly by Lily, who was
    compulsively straightening her hair. James was red-faced and either mad
    or embarrassed, Remus couldn't tell which. But when he realized it was
    not their Head of House, but his friend, he brought his own wand out
    and hexed Remus.
    "I always thought he was the level-headed one," muttered Lily.
    _***
    These memories, of himself and Arabella when they were young, and
    very much in love, also came at a price. They were intertwined with
    memories of Lily and James as well, of their years at Hogwarts when the
    battle looming outside the walls was drowned out. He remember the
    feeling that because they were the cleverest students Hogwarts had seen
    in many years the war that effected everyone couldn't possibly touch
    them.
    How wrong they were. How foolish to believe so much in their own
    abilities. It wasn't until seventh year, when James' parents had been
    brutally murdered that the threat became real. Was Peter passing
    information then? Remus thought to himself, digested for not having
    seen his one time friend for what he was. Is that how James' parents
    were found?
    These thoughts weren't ones he wanted to get tangled up in, and
    certainly not this early in the morning. So instead of staying in bed,
    he got up and quietly stole to the bathroom to shower. Once he was
    dressed, he headed for the kitchen, all thoughts on a steaming hot mug
    of coffee.
    Instead he was greeted with Arabella, and a very different one at
    that. He hadn't seen her this way in many years. She was tousled haired
    and pale from just getting out of bed. To his amusement, she still wore
    those muggle pajama pants and t-shirts she was always so fond of,
    including a pair of house shoes that looked suspiciously like cats. She
    yawned loudly as he walked in, making a slight whiny noise in her
    throat that caused him to smile despite himself.
    "Good morning," he said as he entered the kitchen, going to the
    counter in search of a mug.
    She started slightly, nearly dropping her mug, before giving him
    a reproachful glare. "What's good about it?" she grumbled, her face
    half hidden by the rather large mug of coffee she had to her lips.
    Remus said nothing, past experiences reminding him that it was
    best not to talk to her until she had downed her third cup. She had
    never been a morning person, and time hadn't stomped that out of her
    one bit. Trying his best to hide his smile of amusement at her intense
    glare, he poured his own coffee and made his way to the table.
    Arabella joined him a moment later, still drinking deeply from
    her mug. She sat cross-legged in the chair, looking at nothing
    particular. "_Accio!_" she suddenly mumbled, giving her wand a small
    flick. The coffee pot came flying over to the table where she caught
    it, and poured herself and Remus more. "Have you written to Harry
    yet?" she asked suddenly.
    "No," Remus responded.
    Arabella frowned, setting her cup down and leaning forward.
    "Remus, you have to."
    "I know."
    An uneasy silence pierced the room. "Have you heard from Sirius?"
    "No."
    She sighed, giving Remus a stern look that he ignored. "You have
    to tell that poor boy something. He must be going crazy with worry for
    you and Sirius by now."
    "Me?" Remus looked honestly surprised.
    Arabella rolled her eyes disdainfully. "Yes, you. From what
    you've told me he formed quite an attachment to you when you taught at
    Hogwarts. Harry has no family, Remus, you know that. Finally, you and
    Sirius were thrown into his life, and it's like he finally has a small
    part of his parents back."
    Remus stared at the table during this speech, wondering what
    James and Lily would say if they could see him now. Scared to talk to
    their son, even though he knew how much Harry worried about his
    godfather. Scared to talk to Arabella, knowing how much he still loved
    her. He realized that fear was consuming him, but all he could do was
    shut it away and hope it didn't hinder his goals. If he closed his
    eyes, he could practically see Lily scolding him like she used to do
    the Marauders many years ago.
    Arabella stood up, snapping Remus out of his thoughts. As he
    watched her wash up the few dishes in the sink by hand, he felt a
    burning sensation in the back of his throat. Would it be possible to
    undo so many of the wrongs that had been done?
    Hesitantly he got to his feet and walked up behind her. Trying to
    calm the thumping of his rapidly beating heart, he slid his arms around
    her waist, making her gasp. "I'm sorry Bella," he mumbled, sitting his
    chin atop her head so that the smell of her hair flooded his senses.
    "I'm sorry for everything I have ever done to hurt you."
    He felt her tense up slightly, her hands gripping the counter
    edge. "Don't Remus..." she said in a slightly pleading voice. "The past
    is said and done."
    "But it still hurts. At least it hurts me," he whispered back.
    Arabella caught herself between wanting to run and wanting to
    turn around to face him. Her chest ached physically and she felt the
    familiar sting of tears in her eyes. "It took so long to get over you;
    please don't make me do it again."
    Remus breathed in deeply, running his hands down her arms and
    unclenching them from the counter so he could turn her around. Placing
    his finger under her chin, he tilted her head up to look at him. There
    were tears shining in her beautiful blue eyes, and he knew
    instinctively that he didn't want them there any longer. The years
    between them seemed to vanish in a split second. It was like they were
    back in Hogwarts, and had had nothing more than a disagreement. Remus
    quickly closed the gap between their lips. It felt like the first time
    he kissed her-and the last.
    When he finally pulled away, for more of a lack of oxygen than
    actually wanting to, Arabella was crying hard. She stared him in the
    eyes for a long time and then laid her head on his chest as her arms
    snaked around his body.
    "I thought I'd never feel your arms around me again," she mumbled
    after a long moment.
    Remus gently placed his lips in her hair. "You won't ever have to
    wonder again, if you don't want to. I'm done running from my past, I
    have to face up to it and move on."
    "Does that mean you're going to write to Harry?"
    Remus chuckled lightly. He would almost agree to anything right
    now. "Alright. But if I do, will you give me another chance?"
    "I would have given you one anyway, you prat."
    --End Chapter 4.
    I know this chapter is extremely weird, not too much happening and is
    shorter than the other chapters. But it's where we stopped, sorry about
    that ;) I've stared at the end of this chapter for what seems like
    hours, and I just can't write anything that works for me. So with the
    fresh outlook of a whole new chapter, we'll get going again. And the
    next chapter is bound to be a little more action-filled.
    Standard disclaimer here: we don't own Harry Potter.
    Thanks to our reviewers! *huggles*
    Read? Review! Please!!
    <3 Bethany & Fleur
    06.01.03
    


	5. Author's Notes


    In light of the recent events....
    Because of the release of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, I
    feel like I should break my regular rule of not updating with only
    author's notes.
    The reason for this is that I have finished OotP and noticed,
    strangely, that the story line Fleur and I came up with resembles
    somewhat book five. I would like to say now that we came up with our
    story line before the book was released, and intend to stick to it,
    regardless of what happened.
    For those of you who have finished OofP, and know what I'm talking
    about, this fan fiction **_will not_** follow that story line.
    It was my favorite character that died, and I will not (and probably
    couldn't bring myself to do it, anyway) to follow through with
    something like that in my story.
    But for any similarities you see between our story and book five, I
    promise that they were there before OotP was released and we are not
    trying to copy J.K. Rowling's work.
    Thank you for understanding before hand, and not flaming our decision
    about not changing the story line we came up with months ago.
    ~Bethany & Fleur
    06.22.03
    


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